


There’s Something About A Malfoy

by mindabbles



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Anal Sex, Angst, Aurors, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 07:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17556140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindabbles/pseuds/mindabbles
Summary: Charlie has no room in his drawers for anyone else's skivvies, Harry wallows in moral agony for a bit, Draco wants to rebuild his life, and Scorpius just wants Harry to stop being an idiot. And there's something wicked in the forest. If they're going to stop it, they're all going to have to work together.





	There’s Something About A Malfoy

**Author's Note:**

> Title: There's Something About A Malfoy  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing(s): Harry/Scorpius, Charlie/Draco  
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Summary: Charlie has no room in his drawers for anyone else's skivvies, Harry wallows in moral agony for a bit, Draco wants to rebuild his life, and Scorpius just wants Harry to stop being an idiot. And there's something wicked in the forest. If they're going to stop it, they're all going to have to work together.  
> Warnings: Rimming and other sexual activities.  
> Word Count: 27,500 give or take.
> 
> Author's Notes: Written for trubbleclef at the 2009 hp_springsmut fest. The request was fabulous and included: banter, rimming, and Draco as a redeemed friend; and prompts of Aurors and teacher/student. Two of Charlie's bits of relationship advice were shamelessly stolen from Dan Savage at Savage Love. 
> 
> Thanks to for the amazing job running the fest. Thank you so much to for listening to me agonize over parts of this for ages and the thorough beta; and to for the speedy-quick final beta and helping me remove some of the bits that were soppy even for me. 
> 
> Originally posted: [HERE](http://community.livejournal.com/hp_springsmut/135342.html)

**1\. An Issue With One Of The Trainees**

"Who are you asking to the ball?" 

Hermione slipped the question in as she was pouring the tea, as if he might not notice and answer by accident.

"Hermione," Harry said, with a tone of warning. "I've told you and told you. No one."

"You really should bring someone."

She set the teapot back down on the handsome oak table that stood in the middle of her office. A little tea splashed out of the spout and she vanished it with a wave of her wand.

"Right, what's up?" Harry asked. "You don't care about that sort of thing and you _never_ tell me to do things just for social convention. So, what gives, Granger?"

"I just want the people who are most important to me to have a good time," she said sweetly and about as convincingly as a Blast-Ended Skrewt trying to look cute.

"As if I wouldn't have a good time watching my best friend being inducted as Minister for Magic," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'll ask Ginny. It would be good for the kids to see us going somewhere together." It would be good for _him_. The kids were grown, for the most part, and couldn't care less as long as there were no open hostilities, which there hadn't been for years.

"Harry," she said, slowly, fiddling with her cup. "Harry, she's taking Parvati. Parvati Patil."

"Oh," he said. "That's nice." His voice sounded hollow to his ears.

"Ms. Granger?" Hermione's latest assistant popped her head in the door. He'd stopped trying to remember their names. Hermione usually groomed them for some higher position and promoted them pretty quickly.

"Yes, Tameka?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Potter's needed back at his office," she said. "Your secretary, Sir. An issue with one of the trainees." Hermione nodded and Harry stood as Tameka left the room.

"Harry," Hermione said. "Have you had more than one date with anyone in the past nine years? You work, you see the kids, and you come to Sunday dinner at the Burrow. You don't have anything that's purely for you."

"I have you and Ron. And Charlie. And, I've been busy. It's not easy balancing this career and family—you know that."

" _Harry_." She sounded as if she were talking to Rose. "Your children are grown. Your work has settled somewhat. You've run out of excuses."

"They're not excuses," Harry said, feeling his hackles rise.

"You're talking to _me_ , Harry," she said, a little sadly. "I know what you're doing, but you're wrong. There _is_ a man out there who will want you, not because you're famous or a hero, but for the same reasons I love you. The only problem is that, the way you behave, you'll send him packing before he can get a second date."

"Well, if you see him send him my way," Harry said, not entirely displeased to end the conversation. 

*~*~*

This most recent group of Auror trainees was difficult. There was always something. They'd taken in five this year—more than in any year since right after Voldemort's fall when they'd been trying to rebuild the department. Perhaps they'd made a mistake in putting a group of that many ambitious, intelligent, energetic young people through the paces together. Mentoring one at a time left much less room for problems. It reminded him of the panic he'd felt right after Lily's birth — the unsettling realisation that he and Ginny were outnumbered. 

"Harry," said Aidan, an irritated tone to his voice. "I told him to wait out here." He gestured to the chairs next to his own desk. 

Harry gave Aidan what he hoped was an absolving look and pushed open his door.

Either one of the other Aurors doing the training or one of trainees was bound to come bursting in to his office at some point during the day. He was beginning to doubt the sanity of insisting on continuing to be so involved in the training. For several reasons.

Reason number one was leaning against Harry's desk with a cocky smile on his face.

 

**2\. Time To Call The Aurors**

This deep in the forest, the sun hardly filtered through the dense trees. Charlie carefully placed one foot in front of the other. His steps were muffled by centuries of the cast-offs of the forest, fallen and melded into a soft, thick layer that carpeted the places where the sun didn't reach.

He brought no obvious weapons and, although all of his senses were alert, he walked with eyes on the ground, asking permission to venture here. He was generally welcome throughout the forest, but something was different today. 

Charlie squinted through the dappled light. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He froze, still as a statue, and waited, listening to the rhythm and breath of the forest just as Hagrid had taught him. 

"Tharseo," he breathed as he moved forward much more quickly than he should. 

The thestral was lying on the ground, her body hunched and back legs splayed. She had likely come for a drink at the brook that ran just next to where she lay. He heard a soft sound and he hoped that she was still alive. She'd been pregnant, and losing her would mean losing the foal as well. 

She didn’t move as he approached. The way she was lying, wings spread awkwardly, was all wrong. A small, frightened whinny came from her and he bent down to see that her body was shielding a tiny foal, not more than a day old. 

He touched her leathery hide and jerked back at how cold she was. He moved her as gently as he could off from her terrified baby. The foal looked at him with wild eyes and tried to scramble up on its spindly legs, but Tharseo had been dead a good twelve hours by the feel of her, and baby thestrals need to feed every two or three. The poor wee thing was weak with hunger and trembling with fear and cold. 

"S'all right," he said gently, placing a hand on the spot on the nose where thestral mothers nuzzle their foals to comfort them. He looked back at Tharseo and shook his head, placing a hand on her side. "You were a good mum weren't you? Crikey, I wish you could tell me what you were protecting this little one from."

Tharseo, like the others, showed no sign of injury, no sign of distress. They had just been _dead_ — collapsed by the brook, fallen under a tree, dead with a fresh kill by their feet. Tharseo shielding her foal was his first indication that they might have had some warning. 

It had been a year since Charlie had needed to call on Hagrid and he hated to do it. Spring was a busy time at the Highland Magical Creature Reserve. The animals Hagrid had already rescued were likely to be reproducing and misguided parents who'd bought their kids a baby Fwooper for Christmas were realising their mistake. All that aside, even Hagrid hadn't known what to make of it. 

Not one of his sources had any help to offer, and more animals were dying. 

It was time to call the Aurors. 

 

**3\. That Crooked Half-Smile**

Scorpius crossed his arms over his chest, accentuating his finely muscled forearms, and flipped his over-long fringe out of his eyes. Harry sighed. 

"What have you done now?" he asked.

Scorpius frowned. "Not happy to see me?" He pushed himself off the desk and took two steps closer to Harry.

"I don't have time for games, Mr. Malfoy," Harry snapped. He cleared his throat and moved behind his desk. "Is there a reason I was called away from a meeting to come and find you sitting on my desk?"

"Well," Scorpius drawled. "There are fifteen minutes left until we start up again and I haven't seen you all day and I've an important question only you can answer."

"Let me be clear," Harry said, controlling the shaking in his voice. "You told Aidan it was an emergency and _you have a question to ask me_? What on earth is it that one of the other Aurors couldn't answer?" As soon as the last comment was out of his mouth, he regretted it. 

Nothing like giving the lad an opening. 

Scorpius smiled a self-congratulatory smile that was altogether too much like his father's. "When are you going to keep the promise you made to me a week ago? No one else can answer _that_."

"I told you," Harry said through gritted teeth. "That was a mistake."

"It didn't feel like a mistake," Scorpius said, leaning over Harry's desk so that Harry could see each of his individual eyelashes. 

"Well, it was," Harry said, his tone firmer than he had intended. The self-assured expression on Scorpius' face faltered and Harry felt a little flutter of regret. 

Kissing Scorpius Malfoy, or rather letting Scorpius Malfoy kiss him, had been a singularly stupid thing to do. And while it had been most pleasant, it wasn't something he intended to repeat. 

Of course, he had. Repeated it, that is. A few times. Well, seven. 

"Listen," Harry said, his tone kinder. "It's not that I'm not interested. It's only, it’s a really bad idea. You're a trainee. I'm the head of the department. You are the same age as my kids."

"And we both knew all that last week," Scorpius said, completely dropping the Malfoy drawl and the impetuous strumpet routine. His eyes softened and Harry was awash in the memory of the first time those pretty lips had touched his.

He coughed and said, "It's against Ministry policy anyway." 

Scorpius shook his head and his white-blond hair shimmered in the enchanted sunlight coming through Harry's imaginary window. "No," he said. "It's not. It's _frowned upon_ for — " Scorpius paused and took a breath. "For any Ministry employee who acts in a supervisory capacity to fraternise, socialise to the exclusivity of others in his or her department, or otherwise develop potentially conflicting relationships with any Ministry employee under his or her direct authority. Exceptions shall be granted for pre-existing associations where no other arrangements can be made. That's Chapter 8, section 17 of the Ministry personnel manual, in case you wanted to check my accuracy." He held up his hand and Harry snapped his mouth shut. "And, in case you hadn't noticed. You are not my _direct supervisor_. You are my supervisor's supervisor. So, technically, a fraternisation between us is barely even frowned upon, in any official capacity."

Harry thought that Scorpius was rather missing the point.

"You've, er, you've done your research," Harry said, suppressing a smile.

"Yes," Scorpius said, fixing Harry with that crooked half-smile that had pulled him into this in the first place. "And now you've wasted a potential fifteen minutes of socialising to the exclusivity of others in unnecessary moral agony."

"Who said I'm in agony?" Harry asked, raising one eyebrow. The kid was unbelievable. 

"I do," Scorpius answered. "Must trot, wouldn't do to be late." 

He walked to the door and Harry couldn't help but watch. He had all the arrogance of his forebears, but it was light and bright and not cloaked in Voldemort's influence. Harry was a touch concerned about his finding such arrogance so attractive. That it inspired him to do something that, if not prohibited, was _frowned upon_ by his employers, must say something rather unflattering about him. 

At Scorpius' age, Harry had still been reeling from the war. He had functioned. He had worked. But he had still been grieving, searching for who he was in the absence of Voldemort. He'd been nearly thirty with two children before he'd figured it out. 

"Oh, and Mr. Potter?" Scorpius asked, turning to look at Harry over his shoulder. "I thought you might be interested to know that my father is coming back from abroad."

Harry opened his mouth to ask why on earth he would be interested to know that, but Scorpius had already swept past a very irritated-looking Aidan.

"There's a message from Hogwarts," Aidan said, glaring at the space Scorpius had just vacated. 

 

**4\. Having A Moral Dilemma Are We?**

Charlie sprinted the last few metres to the Three Broomsticks and darted in out of the rain. There were just a few others in the pub, mostly people who worked in the shops for their lunch and a few day trippers dodging the sudden spring showers. 

Harry was sitting at a table in the back, nursing a bottle of Butterbeer. He glanced up and gave Charlie a broad grin.

"Hello, Charlie," Harry said brightly.

Charlie strode to the table and reached to shake Harry's hand. "Well blimey, Harry, I never expected they'd send the great man himself." Charlie chuckled, pleased as could be that they had.

"Shut it," Harry said with a good natured shove at Charlie's shoulder. "Been wanting to come and see you anyway. So when I saw your message, I decided it was time I did some field work."

"What did — "

"If it isn't my favourite Professor," Madam Rosmerta said smoothly. "What can I get you, love?" 

"Cheers. I'd love an Ogden's. Take the chill off the rain," Charlie said, smiling cheekily at her.

"And what'll be your reason in the summer, Professor Weasley?" she asked, laughing as she walked away.

"Heh, s'cold here in the summer as well," Charlie chuckled. 

Harry took a long drink. When he put the bottle back on the table, he looked expectantly at Charlie.

"Right then, first question. What the devil's going on in the forest that you imagine Aurors will know more about than you? Second question. Have you asked Hagrid and how is he?"

"That's three questions," Charlie said. "Ta, Rosmerta." Charlie lifted the tumbler she'd set in front of him. There was at least one extra finger of whisky in it. 

"I'll answer the second and third ones first," Charlie said, the welcome heat of the first sip filling his chest. "Of course I asked Hagrid. He couldn't make heads or tails of it any more than I could. He seemed really well, looked happier than I'd seen in ages. They've taken in a Unicorn, a Runespoor, and a Blood-sucking Bugbear this year and he's going to start taking apprentices who've earned NEWTS in Care of Magical Creatures. He couldn't be more chuffed. Reckons Dumbledore'd be right pleased to see what's being done with the gold he left him."

A guilty look crossed Harry's face. "I should go and see him," Harry said.

"Yes, you should," Charlie scolded. "To the first question. Three thestrals have died in as many weeks. Two stallions and one mare who'd just had a foal. Come to think about it, I've found a few other carcasses and I couldn't tell you that they didn't die in the same way, but nothing else is domesticated, so neither can I be certain." 

"How'd they die?"

"I'm getting there," Charlie said. He shrugged. "They're just dead. Don't seem to be sick — Hagrid didn't recognise anything. No visible injuries. Nothing. If they were humans I'd say someone'd used Avada Kedavra on them."

"Have you considered that someone has?" Harry asked, scratching the side of his face thoughtfully. 

"That's why I called your lot," Charlie said. "Why the hell would a person kill domesticated thestrals?" 

"Dunno," Harry said thoughtfully. "Anyone hacked off at you lately?"

"A bloke or two who expected an owl the next morning maybe, but nothing other than that," Charlie said, downing the rest of his whisky.

"Remind me to thank you for never pulling me those years ago," Harry said, laughing fondly.

"Believe you've done that a few times already." 

"Right well, nothing comes to me at the moment, but I'd be happy to come and have a look," Harry said. 

Harry ran his finger along the rim of his drink. A slight frown creased his forehead. 

"Something on your mind, mate?" Charlie asked, lowering his voice.

"Huh?" Harry asked. "Oh, yeah. I suppose. Could I ask you something not related to this?"

"Fire away."

Harry cast a Muffliato.

"What's the youngest bloke you'd go for?"

"Ooh-hoo," Charlie hooted softly. "Having a moral dilemma are we? How young are we talking?"

"Young. But you didn't answer my question."

"Age is a state of mind."

Harry guffawed and nearly choked on his drink. 

"All right. It depends. For just a tumble or for something more?"

Harry hesitated. "Either?"

"Uh-oh, Potter. That means something more. Always were a hopeless romantic. Probably why you and my sister didn't last."

"That and I lack certain attributes possessed by the likes of Parvati Patil." 

"Right, so she did all three of you a favour. How did you make this wee laddie's acquaintance?"

"Charlie," Harry hissed. "He's not _that young_. No one's getting arrested. The Ministry hasn't started hiring children."

"Ah, a young staff member at the Ministry." Charlie regarded Harry and sucked in his breath. "Oh, I know. He's an Auror trainee and he's the brightest, talented and cheeky. Stands out, but is a discipline problem. Am I close, Auror Potter?"

"Shit, are you the bloody Auror here?"

"No, I just know you."

"Am I that fucking predictable?"

"Afraid so," Charlie said, smirking at Harry as he lifted his glass. "So, you like him. He's probably shivering in his trainers to have attracted the attention of The Boy Who Became a Man. He's of age and there's no explicit rule against it. What's your problem?"

Harry shook his head. "And how the fuck do you know the Ministry rules about that?"

"Make it my business to know all rules and regulations concerning fraternisation, don't I?" Charlie said, taking a sip of his drink. "Listen to me, Harry. You're making too much of it. You're not bonding with the bloke for life. Just have fun, but remember mother's golden rule."

"What's that?" 

"You must leave him better off than you found him."

"Prat. That is _not_ your mother's rule."

Charlie laughed. "Well, she never said it regarding this situation specifically, but it applies. Seriously, Harry. It's been a while. You are someone who wants to be part of a pair and it's high time you stop counting on Ginny to be your second whenever the invitation says 'and guest.'"

"And why are you so keen on relationships all of a sudden? What about you?"

"Me? I don't have room in my drawer for anyone else's skivvies." Charlie winked and finished off his drink. 

Harry rolled his eyes and lifted the Muffliato. 

 

**5: Eager Faces**

Five eager faces studied Harry. It was much too early in the morning for such scrutiny. 

He'd left Hogsmeade and Charlie with more thoughts in his head than he knew where to put. A long tramp through the forest had told him nothing more illuminating than what Charlie had in the comfort of the Three Broomsticks. He'd come home with no leads, no suspects, no actual crime as far as he knew, and a piece of relationship advice. 

"Mr Potter? Did you see any evidence of a witch or wizard living in the forest?" asked Laverne. She was younger than the rest — maybe eighteen or nineteen. She always raised her hand to ask a question, which she did with incredible frequency. She had invariably read ahead in any subject they were taking up and seemed to learn the most complex spells with a facility that must irritate her peers no end. Harry felt a little wave of fondness every time she spoke. This was what Hermione might have been like, had she been allowed to keep her earnest innocence until she was nineteen. 

"Excellent question, Laverne," he said enthusiastically, and she beamed. "I did not. I did not see a thing that Professor Weasley didn't describe to me in our conversation. So, what do we know?"

He nodded and tried to listen as the trainees reiterated back to him the facts he had just outlined. 

"You've told us facts, Mr Potter," said Scorpius. "But an investigation is more than facts, isn't it?"

Harry felt his face heat and he hoped the blush didn't rise to colour his cheeks. "Go on, Mr Malfoy."

Scorpius glanced down, his long lashes shuttering his grey eyes for a moment. He looked back up at Harry, a small smile on his face. "You said that Professor Weasley said the forest _felt_ different. That seems to me to be the place to start."

"And how you would you do that? How do you investigate a feeling? I don't know the forest like Professor Weasley does, so I can't feel what he does. In an investigation, how would you track someone else's feelings, or rather that their sense or feeling about a particular thing has changed?" Harry asked. He was aware somewhere in the periphery of his vision that Laverne had raised her hand. He gave her a half nod, signalling to wait, and kept his eyes on Scorpius.

"It's subtle, isn't it? It's an expression, a tone of voice, that way someone's eyes look when they see something," Scorpius said. His voice was steady, but his tongue darted to lick his lips when he'd finished and his eyes were intense on Harry's. "It takes time, I'd imagine. But if you pay attention to small details, you can gauge, even _feel_ it yourself, when the atmosphere has changed." 

The sounds of the others' voices clamouring to be heard entered Harry's consciousness. He blinked hard to force himself to look away from the piercing eyes and the mixture of longing and confidence that made him dizzy. 

He cleared his throat and scrambled to catch up to the conversation now going on in the room. 

"Right, so what are the next steps given all the factors?" he asked. That was safe. 

They settled on poison or an unknown illness as the most likely causes of death and agreed that Avada Kedavra was possible but not likely. 

"And you must not ever shy away from asking for help. Given our first impressions, who might we contact to assist in narrowing down the options?"

Laverne's hand shot into the air.

"Laverne, I've told you, there is no need to raise your hand. We are all adults here. What do you think?" Harry said, with a small smile.

"I think we want to speak with a Magical Creatures expert about illnesses, and a potions expert — someone who knows healing potions in case it is a sickness and someone who knows poisons and antidotes as well." 

"Well done," Harry said. "I think we've the magical creatures experts covered between Rubeus Hagrid and Professor Weasley. Your assignment, all of you, is to research potions experts. Good work. Why don't you have a break and I'll tell each of your mentors that you'll be back after a long lunch." 

Harry concentrated on putting his parchment and quill back into his bag and convincing himself that the butterflies in his stomach were a result of hunger.

He wasn't imagining it. He wasn't. He was not a pathetic forty-nine year old man lusting after someone who was about twenty-six years his junior. The boy — man — the man was younger than his eldest child and he was middle-aged and surely the mere fact that he was starting to believe he wasn't only _lusting_ , because that was certainly normal, but that he actually _liked_ the boy — man — was another indication of something less than flattering about his maturity. 

To be fair, one of the most difficult mindsets to shed after being raised in the Muggle world was expectations about age. A wizard's life span was nearly double that of the Muggle and, by those standards, he was nowhere near middle-aged. If things were to work out between the two of them, what honestly was the difference between a man of one hundred and twenty and a man of ninety-four?

Fuck. 

"Mr Potter?"

Aidan was standing in front of him looking concerned. He had arrived back at his office, hardly having noticed his feet moving his body along the hallway. Aidan's frown gave Harry the sinking feeling that he may have been muttering to himself. 

He cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"Are you quite well, sir?"

"Yes. I'm fine. What is it?" 

"It might be nothing, but you didn't look well and you received this message," Aidan said, looking extremely nervous. "I had no idea it might be of a personal nature and you'd told me to screen all incoming for the priority ones. I'd no idea it was of a personal nature. Oh, I've said that, haven't I? Here," he said, thrusting a note into Harry's hand. 

"Thank you Aidan," Harry said kindly. "I'm sure you're only doing your job. Go on and have your lunch."

He hurried into his office and pulled the door shut behind him. 

Elegant, slanting script spread across the page. 

_I gather you have decided upon an end to agony. If I am correct, and I am certain that I am, please join me for lunch. Room 26 at the Leaky Cauldron. It is philistine, but it is available on short notice._

_-SM_

Harry read it eight times. He pretended for the first two that he would not go. He convinced himself for readings three through six that he was undecided. Reading seven was spent kicking himself for not dressing better today and reading number eight was done with a half-hard cock and trembling hands. 

He picked up a handful of green powder and said, "Diagon Alley," as clearly as he could.

*~*~*

The Leaky Cauldron was bustling with activity. Hannah had done wonders with the place. 

Hannah. 

She looked up from the till and smiled when Harry stepped in and Harry could have kicked himself for not remembering, not preparing a story. She'd know who'd let the bloody room. 

He started to say, _here on business_ , as officiously as he could manage, but Hannah cut him off with a nod toward the stairs. Harry inhaled and bounded up to the second floor. 

Room twenty-six was at the far end of the hall. Plenty of space between the stairs and the room to change his mind. 

He raised his hand and knocked sharply three times.

"Who is it?" Scorpius sang from inside.

Harry leaned in close to the door and hissed, " _Harry_ ," through the crack.

He heard a muttered spell and the door swung open.

Scorpius was sitting in a plush chair at a small round table near the window. He was dressed in his work clothes and looked as if he were ready for, well, for lunch. 

The little bubble of anxiety in Harry's stomach relaxed in either relief or disappointment, he wasn't sure. He didn't know what he had been expecting — Scorpius spread out naked on the bed for him with rose petals sprinkled around his arse, or something.

"Were you not expecting lunch?" Scorpius asked with an overly sweet smile playing on his pink lips. "That is what the note said."

"No, of course I was," Harry stammered. "Lunch time. Very hungry and, er, yes." _Fuck_ , he hated that Scorpius could make him faff about like a school boy. 

But Charlie was right. He could see someone simply because they enjoyed each other. This didn't have to be a lifetime commitment. This was just lunch.

Scorpius smirked and said, "Well, we'll see if we can't satiate your hunger, then. I hope there's enough here."

Harry crossed the room in three long strides. He stopped in front of Scorpius, so close that Scorpius had to tilt his head back to look Harry in the eye. Silver-blond hair fell around his shoulders and the tilt of his head sharpened his jaw-line and exposed a long, pale column of throat. The cocky smile faded and Scorpius sucked in his breath.

"I think I'm finished with the agony," Harry said. He reached his hand out and touched the top of Scorpius' arm.

Scorpius' lips parted in a breath and he rose to standing, inches in front of Harry. Harry slid his hand up Scorpius' arm and over his shoulder. He let his fingers trail, with a light, tickling touch, up that long, pale neck until he could curl them around to cup Scorpius' jaw.

Scorpius brushed his lips along Harry's. They parted slightly and Harry could feel his warm breath. 

"About time," Scorpius said, his lips moving over Harry's mouth. "Bloody Gryffindors. Such drama queens." 

Harry pressed forward for a kiss, sliding his hand to mould around the base of Scorpius' head and tangle his fingers in the fine hair. He licked at Scorpius' lips until he felt the tips of their tongues connect, making his stomach flip.

Scorpius made little "mm-mm" sounds of pleasure as Harry deepened the kiss. He curled his tongue once, twice, again, and Scorpius melted into him. Harry pulled their bodies flush against one another. 

Scorpius’ body was long muscles and firm curves under his robes. Harry worked his hand between them, stroking and touching, feeling the gentle swell of his strong chest. He toyed with the fastenings. "May I?" He asked, kissing his way down Scorpius' neck.

The sound Scorpius made as he leaned into Harry's touch made Harry dizzy with desire. And when he gasped, " _Please_ ," Harry felt the word like a lover's touch.

Harry slid his fingers in to the front of Scorpius' robe, spreading it open. Every movement laid open more soft, warm skin for touching, for tasting. 

"Yours, too," Scorpius whispered, when Harry had him bare to the waist.

Harry stepped back and drank in the sight — chest heaving, skin flushed and glowing in the dim light filtering through the drawn curtains, well-kissed lips waiting for more. He fumbled over the fastenings of his clothes, fingers trembling in his hurry. He let his robe slide from his shoulders, moaning in anticipation as Scorpius mirrored him.

He stepped closer and heard Scorpius' back connect with the wall with a dull thud. He started to ask if he was all right, but his words were cut off by a fierce kiss. Scorpius' body, warm and lithe and eager, moved against his. His skin was soft as silk under Harry's hands, heated and alive and Harry had almost forgotten the pure pleasure of just feeling another person, feeling the shivers and seeing a lover quiver and melt from your touch.

"Fuck, touch me," Scorpius said, breathy and gorgeous and punctuated with a nip of teeth on Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah," Harry groaned. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Scorpius' pants and slid them down over his hips.

Scorpius keened as Harry wrapped his hand around his cock. Harry thought about teasing him, light touches along the length of his cock, a gentle squeeze to the head, but Scorpius' eyes were begging him, his pink lips open in an "O," and Harry couldn't wait. He yanked off his own pants and kicked them away from his feet. 

"Like this," he whispered. He pressed his own cock along Scorpius', squeezing them together in his hand. "Fuck, that's good," Harry growled and Scorpius' eyes fluttered shut, but it was too much distance, kept them too far apart. So Harry moved his hand to grasp Scorpius' firm arse and bring their bodies together, cocks sliding against each other, rubbing over the smooth skin of stomachs, and then there was no space separating them at all.

Little, breathy sobs of pleasure were coming from Scorpius' throat and he angled himself so that Harry's cock slid between his legs and dragged along his balls on each thrust. The muscles in Harry's thighs jumped each time the head of his cock pressed into Scorpius' balls and he knew he didn't have long — didn't have long before the heat of this moment passed and he may not say what he wanted to, but he couldn't think and it was so hot and, _oh, god_ , so fucking perfect.

"I want you so much," he said, gasping on each word.

Scorpius opened his eyes at that and his hips jerked against Harry and Harry felt hot, liquid heat spilling over his cock and stomach and he held himself tight against Scorpius, cock sliding in the crease of his thigh and then he was coming harder than he had in ages, heart pounding and knees threatening to give way.

Harry wrapped his arms around Scorpius' shoulders and felt slim arms go around his waist. They leaned against the wall, catching their breath and holding each other up. Warm lips moved along Harry's jaw and cheek and settled on his mouth. With the heat gone and the tension eased, they kissed slowly and thoroughly until Harry realised he was probably very, very late for his meeting with Hermione.

He combed his fingers through Scorpius' hair and Scorpius' purred like a contented cat. "I have to go," he said, his voice full of regret.

"Not yet," Scorpius said. "You'll make me feel cheap, a quick tumble at lunch in a dingy room and you're back to your respectable life."

Harry's brow creased with worry for a moment, until he saw the gleam in Scorpius' eye.

"Would it help if I buy you dinner next time?" Harry asked, caressing circles on Scorpius' back.

"Might," he said. "But I did actually want to talk with you about something privately. If you have another minute."

"Oh?"

"Well, this is a bit professionally awkward," Scorpius said, a cautious look on his face. He stepped away from Harry and lifted his robe from the floor.

Harry had a hard time imagining what might be more professionally awkward than the situation in which they already found themselves, so he hated to ask. But since Scorpius seemed to feel he should be dressed for this, Harry supposed that he should as well.

"What is it?" He asked, shrugging on his robe.

"That case you were talking about today," Scorpius said. "I've been thinking about it and I know someone who might help. Someone who's been out of the country for a while, but is recently back. He has expertise in healing potions and in antidotes. He worked in a rural area in France and has even treated animals, including magical creatures."

Harry felt a small bubble of anxiety form in his chest.

"Harry," Scorpius said. "My dad's just back in the country and I think he's who you're looking for with this case. He could use some work — feel useful, rebuild his life here, you know. And he really is brilliant."

"Oh," Harry said again. "I do have to get to a meeting." Scorpius frowned and Harry quickly added. "Give me more information later, all right? I'll give it my attention when I have some time." 

He tidied himself up a bit and bid Scorpius good-bye, with a kiss and a promise to see him outside of work soon. 

He hurried back to the Ministry, all the time trying not to think about the timing of Scorpius' seduction and Draco's sudden return to England to look for work. 

*~*~*

Hermione scowled at him over her cup of tea.

"What have you done?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry squawked. "I haven't done anything." He smoothed his hands down his robes, checking for gaps and hoping she wouldn't notice. 

"You're late and your mind's away somewhere." 

He considered Hermione, avoiding her eyes. 

"I've met someone." He said carefully.

"Oh, Harry," she said, sounding nothing like a woman in her forties about to become Minister for Magic. "That's wonderful! Who is he? Will you take him to the ball? I do want you to have someone to take to the ball." 

"Why are you so fussed about me having a date for your ball?"

She frowned and clamped her lips shut as she did when she didn't intend to say anything else on a matter. 

"I just want you to have a good time," she said, unconvincingly. 

"Maybe I'll invite him to the ball, maybe not. But I'll have a good time if it kills me," he said and Hermione shook her head at him. "Look, it's very new." She didn't look convinced. "Right, well. I've to go and catch up on paper work. Won't be in tomorrow. I'm off to Hogwarts. I need to talk with Charlie about the thestrals."

He thought Hermione looked a little worried as she said good-bye, but he couldn't be certain.

 

**6\. Tea?**

"Tea?" Charlie asked. "I'm just making some."

"Nah, thanks though," Harry said, shifting in his seat. "I had some with Hermione," he added absently. 

"You here about the case?" Charlie asked, pouring the hot water into a china pot. "I didn't expect to hear from you for a few days yet." He paused and looked at Harry more closely. "Here, what's up?"

"Why?" Harry asked with an irritated tone. "Hermione kept asking that as well."

"You just seem distracted is all — no, you seem, I don't know...relieved," Charlie said. He narrowed his eyes and Harry shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "No, I've got it. Your young lad. You went for him, didn't you?" 

Harry obviously tried to suppress his grin, but his face lit like a summer morning and his eyes twinkled.

"Looks as if he agrees with you," Charlie said, grinning back. He poured his tea, tapping the spout with his wand to trap the stray leaves inside. 

"I think he might," Harry laughed. "But that's not why I'm here, although I know you'll wheedle details out of me at some point. I mentioned the thestrals to the trainees."

"I should tell you, Harry," Charlie said. He shook his head and tapped his fingers on the table. "There've been more dead animals. Nothing so big — a few birds, a hare, and a couple of carcasses I couldn't be sure of because something had been at them. Hagrid was down again this weekend and there's nothing he could see, either. Neville took a look and didn't see any rogue or unusual toxic plant species. I'm at a loss."

"There are a couple of possibilities," Harry said. He rubbed his chin and the giddy, distracted look left him. "Something poisonous that you, Hagrid, and Neville have all missed _and_ that leaves no trace. Right, seems less and less likely. There's human interference. Someone bringing something in that is harming them. It could be a poison, a spell. I did some research into enchantments that may have been activated and came up with nothing. I think we have to exhaust both the poison and the curse route. In the meantime, we find someone to work on a potion — a medicinal one to fortify any creatures you find who are still alive." 

Harry paused as Charlie shook his head, frowning sadly. The foal had died soon after his mother and Charlie was certain that he had been affected by whatever had taken her.

"We also need that person to have experience in identifying poisons, developing antidotes, and dealing with animals."

"You sound as if you've someone in mind," Charlie said.

"I do," Harry said and he looked nervous. "You'll think I'm mad. One of the trainees recommended him, his son actually. I thought it was daft myself at first, but I checked into it and he seems to know his stuff and come highly recommended from his time abroad."

"Why so mysterious?"

"Draco Malfoy." 

"Pardon?"

"I told you you'd think I was mad," Harry said quickly. "But I think he can help."

Charlie leaned back in his chair. He lifted his cup and drained it. Charlie had never been an accomplished Legilimens, but he was damn good at reading people, and that was not the whole story. 

"His _son_ ," Charlie said. "Malfoy's son. Merlin Harry, That's your lad, isn't it?" Charlie smirked and Harry flushed. 

"I do wish you'd stop calling him my lad," Harry groaned. 

"You're trying to get your boyfriend's dad a job," Charlie chuckled. "Quite sweet really."

"Oh, shit. Shut up," Harry said. "Never mind. Just never mind. I knew it was a terrible idea. Probably the reason he's taken up with me anyway."

"Harry," Charlie said, dropping the smirk. "I'm joking. Listen, I even tried to talk to Bane. Nearly lost some rather precious bits, I don't mind telling you."

"What's going on with the Centaurs?"

"Firenze stays up at the school mostly and I keep out of the west end of the forest. Before he left, Hagrid worked out a bit of a truce," Charlie said. "They can be contacted in case of an emergency. They didn't think this was an emergency. The thestral herd is apparently an affront to the forest and all that's happening in the forest at the moment is due to Jupiter's moons or something."

"No help there, eh?" Harry said. 

"So, yeah, long story short, I'm out of ideas and if Malfoy can help, I'm all for it," Charlie said, reaching across the table for the teapot and another tea cup. He poured out two cups and handed one to Harry. "Now, enough of this. I want to hear all about your wee lad."

"I do hate you, you know," Harry said, reaching for the cup.

 

**7\. An Excellent Teacher**

Harry didn't know what he'd expected, but this was not it. He supposed he should have and he would have scolded any other Auror who hadn't put the pieces together. 

Malfoy was back in the country — just recently back in the country. He had a total of two relatives and maybe one or two friends. Where else would he be on a Saturday evening than at his son's flat? 

Anywhere else, if the universe were kind. 

All Harry had been able to think about since yesterday was being alone with Scorpius. And Draco bloody Malfoy was standing across the room looking at him with an evil grin.

"Potter," Draco drawled, gracefully inclining his head.

"Malfoy," Harry responded coolly, with a curt nod.

"You two aren't going to duel, are you?" Scorpius asked, with a cheeky, lopsided smile. "Only I've just tidied up."

"Don't be ridiculous, Scorpius," Draco said, stalking to the fireplace. He reminded Harry so strongly of Lucius that Harry had to remind himself of what year it was. "I would never presume to challenge the head of the MLE, and your boss at that. I have more respect for you and for the Ministry." 

"I'm not technically his boss," Harry mumbled. "I mean I am, of course, but not his direct supervisor."

Draco raised one eyebrow and slowly said, "All _right_. I understand from Scorpius that you take an active part in training. I do want to thank you for all you have taught him."

"And," Scorpius said with a wicked smile. "All you have yet to teach me. Harry is an excellent teacher, father."

Harry coughed and felt his cheeks burn. "I take the education of young Aurors very seriously — " 

" _Very_ seriously," echoed Scorpius.

Harry shot him what he hoped was a quelling look. "And Scorpius is an able wizard. He'll make an excellent Auror."

"Thank you for that, Potter," Draco said. "I do mean it. Thank you also for taking the time look into my past employment. I assume that means you are at least considering allowing me to assist on this case."

"You found out about that did you?" Harry asked. He should have known that Draco would find out that he'd been poking about. "Right, why don't you come by the office on Monday and we'll talk about the particulars. There's not much money in it, mind you."

"Not a concern," Draco said graciously. "I'm most interested in establishing myself in England. I've been away for far too long, and as Scorpius seems intent on staying here, I shall make an effort to as well."

The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood on end at how decent and polite Draco was being. That awful, ugly doubt about Scorpius' intention crept back into his brain.

"Father," Scorpius said, somewhat impatiently. "Harry and I have some things to go over. I'll come by tomorrow, all right?" 

Draco blinked almost imperceptibly at the dismissal, and Harry felt a touch of sympathy for the man.

"Of course, son," Draco said, any hurt or irritation completely hidden. "Until tomorrow, then." He picked up a handful of Floo Powder and whooshed up the chimney in an elegant swirl of green smoke.

"I'll thank you not to ambush me in the future," Harry said the moment Draco had well and truly disappeared. 

"Whatever do you mean?" Scorpius asked. He leaned casually against the fireplace, and Harry's eyes travelled up and down his long, lean body. 

"I mean your father," Harry growled. 

"He stopped by after I'd sent my owl to you," Scorpius said. "I don't know why you'd think I'd take any chances on interrupting our evening when bringing you round was such a tortuous process." 

Scorpius reached and pushed his hair off his shoulder, the blond strands glinting gold in the fire light. Harry's mouth went dry and he pushed out any thoughts that this had been a set up, that Scorpius had been going after him hard all year in anticipation of his father's return to England. Again, he would have scolded any novice Auror, but sometimes he didn't want to be bloody rational.

"Come here," Harry said. He caught his breath as Scorpius smiled and walked slowly across the room.

Harry reached out and took both of Scorpius' hands in his. They were warm and smooth and the long fingers curled around and into his palms. Scorpius tugged lightly, pulling Harry closer. 

Scorpius moved first, angling his head and pressing his lips to Harry's. The kiss was slow and sweet and Harry wondered why he'd denied himself this for so long. 

"So, _sir_ ," Scorpius said, pulling back and his eyes lighting with mischief. "What's on the training schedule tonight?"

Harry felt warring waves of discomfort and desire. "Don't call me that when we're alone, okay?"

Gentle fingers brushed and caressed his cheek, pressing just enough to hold his head steady, forcing him to look Scorpius in the eye. Scorpius' thumb traced his cheekbone. 

"You're really bothered," Scorpius said, smoothing his other hand down Harry's arm and Harry suddenly felt sixteen. "I'm not going to be stupid and say it doesn't matter or, if things go on, it won't matter to other people. But Harry, I _like_ that you're older. I like that you've things you can teach me — both about relationships and about work. And it's not as if I've nothing I can teach you, you know."

"You ought to realise that me teaching anyone about relationships is a bit laughable. But, thanks," Harry said, tilting his head to lean into Scorpius' touch. "I'm trying not to be bothered and I'm trying not to feel like a dirty old man. It might be easier if one of my children weren't older than you."

"I'm not your son, Harry," Scorpius said firmly. "And you're killing the mood."

"I'm sorry." Harry wrapped his hands around Scorpius, rubbing across the small of his back. He leaned in and kissed Scorpius' neck, lightly at first, deepening with each kiss until he was sucking gently just below Scorpius' jaw. He smiled onto the soft skin when Scorpius pressed their bodies together and Harry could feel how hard he was beneath his robes. "Mm, mood restored?" Harry asked.

"Nearly," Scorpius murmured. His hands were everywhere, running over Harry's back and arse, moving over the contours of his chest. "Setting can be everything," he said, taking Harry's hand and leading him down the hallway.

There were half a dozen candles floating below the ceiling, casting a soft light over the room. The large bed was covered with a luxurious silver-grey duvet. Lamps on the bedside table, with the flame low, lent just enough light to make the two glasses of red wine beneath one of them seem to glow. 

"I see what you mean," Harry said, and the concerns about Scorpius' intentions faded. Draco had obviously not been the expected company. 

He pulled Scorpius into his arms for a kiss, parting his lips and groaning at the electric touch of Scorpius' tongue against his. They leaned into each other, trying to get impossibly close, but nothing seemed close _enough_. He needed to show Scorpius how badly he wanted him, to make him shatter with pleasure, to erase any memory of anyone who had come before. 

"Take off your clothes and lie down." Harry's voice came out low and gruff and Scorpius shivered. 

Scorpius stood in the circle of light from one of the lamps and slowly trailed his fingers down his front. He trailed them back up, eyes falling shut as he lingered over the bulge of his erection and opening again when the fingers flipped open the top of his robe. He let his robe fall dramatically from his shoulders and Harry laughed appreciatively. 

Harry splayed his hand over his urgently pounding cock and pressed, moaning at the relief of the pressure. Scorpius finally kicked off his pants and was completely naked. 

Harry had touched him before. Harry had looked before. But he had never seen Scorpius like this, pale skin glowing in the romantic light, eyes burning into his, and a gorgeous erection begging to be licked. Never breaking eye contact, Scorpius backed to the bed and sat down. He began to lie back when Harry stopped him.

"Face down."

Scorpius turned and spread himself out on the silvery bed and Harry gasped. The long slope of his back curved into a round, firm arse and then strong, luscious thighs to elegant calves and feet. 

Harry had to close his eyes, breathe, remember his plan, so he didn't fall on him and rub his cock on that beautiful arse until he came. No, he had something else in mind. He pulled his robe over his head, not bothering to undo the fastenings, and toed off his shoes. 

He slid his body along Scorpius' until their thighs pressed together, his cock straining the soft fabric of his pants and pushing between Scorpius’ thighs. His sensitive nipples rubbed on Scorpius' back, and he whispered in his ear, "You look good enough to eat."

Scorpius craned his neck to look at Harry, one eyebrow raised, but the pink stain of desire on his cheeks and the trembling in his muscles belied the cool and imperious effect for which he tried. "On you go, then," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Harry touched his lips to warm skin, all along the shoulders and back, teasing kisses that made Scorpius squirm. He traced the outline of his shoulder blade with his tongue and kissed, open-mouthed and hot, down Scorpius' spine. The gentle curve where Scorpius' back turned into his arse felt like it was made for his hands and his lips. Scorpius rolled his hips, unable to keep still, rubbing his cock against his expensive duvet. 

"Oh, you're killing me," Harry groaned. He kneeled to tug down his pants and yank his socks off with them.

Scorpius' skin was cool from the evening air, his arse firm and velvety to Harry's lips. He took his time kissing and licking over each round cheek, one hand rubbing circles in the small of Scorpius' back, the other gently squeezing the muscles in his thighs. He kissed his way to the very base of the spine and ran his lips, more caressing than kissing, down the length of the cleft. He retraced the path his lips had made with his tongue, pressing it against the warming skin.

"Ah, Harry," Scorpius groaned and Harry's cock ached with arousal to hear his name said like that, like a plea.

He ran his thumbs just inside the cleft, parting the cheeks and Scorpius thrust into the bed, panting. Harry chuckled against the lovely skin and laved his tongue in one long stroke from the top of Scorpius' arse to his balls.

He could feel Scorpius holding his breath, perhaps unsure, and he thought for a moment he might stop him. Harry paused, breath hot against Scorpius' arse until he moaned again, " _Harry_ ," and Harry licked directly over his entrance. 

"Oh, god, what are you — oh, _fuck_ ," Scorpius gasped, writhing against the soft duvet. 

"Mm," Harry hummed against the soft skin. "Shh," he whispered, blowing softly. He swept his tongue again over Scorpius' arse, one, two, three times right over the centre.

"Okay, you really are — " Scorpius said and his words were cut off by his own moan when Harry pointed his tongue and circled his entrance. 

Harry loved doing this. He had only ever done it for two other lovers. His handful of relationships since Ginny had been short-lived and unimportant, and this intimacy and intensity were things to be savoured, never to be made mundane. Each of his lovers had responded differently to this and Harry's blood burned in anticipation of learning what Scorpius would do. 

He licked around and around the tight muscles, his hands clutching Scorpius' hips. Scorpius was rocking against the bed and pushing his arse back onto Harry's tongue. Harry pressed slowly inside, fluttering his tongue and moaning into Scorpius' body when he felt him begin to open. This was the best, the sexiest moment, when his lover lost himself in the sensation, begged for more, shivered and shook and trembled apart. 

Harry thrust his tongue in as hard as he could, hands encouraging Scorpius' now frantic rubbing against the bed. Scorpius began an urgent litany of, _oh, oh, Harry, oh_ , and Harry had to press Scorpius into the mattress in order not to get thrown off his task. 

Harry stayed with Scorpius as his rolling hips slowed. He slowed his licking tongue to a long, deep kiss and Scorpius let out a final, breathy groan. 

Scorpius became still and silent and Harry closed his eyes. Panic that he had moved too fast, that Scorpius was embarrassed at his wanton display, that this had somehow gone wrong, settled over him like a chill. But his cock was aching for release and the sensation of Scorpius writhing for him was too vivid to let it go.

"Scorpius?" he asked gently. "All right?"

Scorpius lifted his head and turned just enough that he could see Harry, but Harry couldn't really see his face. 

"No one's ever done that for me before." 

"Oh," Harry said, smoothing his hand over the small of Scorpius' back and the lovely curve of his arse. His heart filled at the tone of wonder in Scorpius' voice. "I loved doing it."

"What about you?" Scorpius asked, glancing down at Harry's incredibly hard, nearly painful cock. Harry felt a new wave of arousal as the cheeky demeanour crept back.

"Can I..." he started, sliding up Scorpius' body until his chest pressed against the smooth back and his hips moulded to Scorpius' arse, "...do this?" He thrust down, sliding his cock between Scorpius' thighs.

"After that, you can do whatever you'd like," Scorpius said. "On one condition."

Harry slowed his thrusts and nipped at Scorpius' ear. "What's that?"

"Next time, you teach me how to do that to you."

"I think I could arrange that, Mr Malfoy," Harry said and Scorpius immediately pushed back against him. He moved with him until Harry was coming completely undone and completely, utterly smitten.

 

**8\. Don't Know If I'd Call it Wasted**

The knock at the door was short and sharp. Charlie put down his book, one of many he had obsessively pored over in the last weeks trying to find some clue, and pulled open the door.

"Potter said you would be expecting me," said Draco Malfoy. He stood on Charlie's doorstep looking as if he'd been dropped there quite by mistake. 

"I am," Charlie said, trying to sound welcoming. "Come in."

Draco paused and Charlie had the impression of someone who thought danger, or possibly a communicable disease, was lurking inside.

"Nothing's expired in here. I can assure you, it's quite safe," Charlie said, chuckling. 

He was fascinated to see that Draco flushed. "I'm sorry," Draco said quickly. "It's only that I haven't been here since, well since I was in school."

Draco stepped inside and stopped again. Charlie watched him take in the small, efficiently arranged interior of the cottage. He had laid the table for lunch — a cheerful, checked cloth and plates and cups with a complementary blue pattern. Sandwiches and cakes covered serving platters. In his small sitting room area, on the table between two deep blue armchairs, were flowers he had cut from his garden, bringing all the colours of spring into his small space. During the day, he set his bed up as a settee with large, squashy pillows of every shade of blue you can imagine arranged along the wall. 

Charlie laughed out loud at the look on Draco's face. "You can say it. It's changed a bit since it was Hagrid's."

"A Weasley with a sense of colour — I'm not sure _what_ to say," Draco quipped.

"Cheek," Charlie shot back, laughing. "Just because we all have red hair, doesn't mean we can't appreciate other colours, Malfoy." 

Draco took in a deep breath and Charlie was sure he was biting back a retort, but thought better of it. 

"Thank you for giving me this chance. I never would have expected — " 

"I'm desperate, Malfoy, and Harry sent you, so you can spare me the gratitude," Charlie said, scooping the books from the table and gesturing for Malfoy to sit. "We'll go out to the forest in a bit, but I haven't had my lunch and you may as well join me."

Draco ate like a bird, picking and pecking at bits of food. Charlie started to ask him a couple of times if he thought Weasel food would make him ill, but he decided to play nice.

"So," Charlie said, attempting conversation after a long silence. "What took you abroad?"

"I'm sure you know," Draco scoffed. "The implosion of my marriage was gleefully reported in the Daily Prophet nearly every day for a month."

Charlie reached for a raspberry sponge. "You really should have one of these. I made them this morning." He thrust the plate at Draco. "And you may find this hard to believe Malfoy," Charlie said, taking a big bite of the soft, sweet cake and tart berries, "but I didn't actually follow your exploits in the society pages."

Draco looked as if he were about to speak, but he reached for a cake and took a small bite. 

"You know, these really are very nice," Draco said, licking raspberry juice from the corner of his mouth. The tip of his tongue was stained the rich red of the berries. 

"How did you choose France?" Charlie asked, taking the kettle to the sink to fill another pot for tea.

"Seemed as good a place as any," Draco shrugged.

"Did it turn out to be?" Charlie asked, smiling, and Draco shrugged one shoulder. "Don't suppose there's much difference between the Magical Creatures here and there, just over the pond, after all."

"There were some species I hadn't seen before," Draco said. 

"Really?" Charlie sat up and leaned toward him. "What?"

"Well, there was this one species of frog," Draco said, eyes twinkling with interest. Then he stopped and shrugged again. "But it's not that interesting."

"You can't do that, man!" Charlie exclaimed. "Now you have to tell me." 

"The Moon Frog," Draco said.

"You never saw one," Charlie said. "You're pulling my leg." 

"I certainly did see a Moon Frog." Draco leaned forward. "It's lovely, really. I only ever saw two — a mother and tadpole. The mum was pure silver, and the little one had a pinkish hue, like the harvest moon. You can tell they're not from this world, sort of an air about them." 

"What's the habitat?" Charlie asked. Usually when he tried to talk with people about Magical Creatures, with the exception of Hagrid, their eyes glazed over. The students always wanted to hear about his work with Dragons, and while they would always be Charlie's passion, he'd learnt a bit more than that in the intervening years.

"They live high up in the mountains, less oxygen in the air, you see. Rocky places, but they've to go to ponds or streams to spawn." Draco's face lit with his smile. "They only spawn once every twelve years."

Charlie noticed Draco's eyes dart to the ceiling, as if he were trying to remember something. Or to come up with something. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"How'd they get here from the moon, then?" 

"Oh, that's the interesting bit," Draco said, faltering barely noticeably. "No one knows for sure."

Charlie burst into laughter. "You're taking the piss! You're having me on."

"No, no, I — " Draco said, and then he too dissolved into laughter. "You caught on much quicker than Scorpius when he visited."

"I should bloody well hope so," Charlie said, laughing still. " _You_ owe me a story." 

"Right then, let me tell you about the Porlock I came across in a stable in the Jura Mountains. The _size_ of it," Draco said. "Wouldn't let me near the injured horse."

Charlie found himself grinning and he settled back in his chair. 

*

The tea was cold and all the cakes were gone. The clouds visible through Charlie's kitchen window were a swath of pink fire and brilliant orange, catching the last brightness of the sun as it sank below the mountains. 

"We've gone and talked all afternoon," Charlie said. He yawned and tipped his chair back to look at the darkening sky. 

"We have," Draco said, and Charlie couldn't tell if the inflection signified a simple question or disbelief. 

"Look outside."

Draco stood and stretched, rolling his neck so his long hair swished across his shoulders. He bent to look out of the window. 

"We won't go in to the forest now, I suppose," Draco said. And again Charlie couldn't tell if this was a simple question, or a hope edged with fear. 

"Nah, won't be able to see much now, will we?" Charlie said. "You'll have to come back tomorrow."

"So we've wasted an entire afternoon?" Draco asked, scowling.

Charlie shrugged. "Don't know if I'd call it wasted, but we didn't work. Come back tomorrow, eh, Malfoy?"

Draco shook his head, but he didn't really look terribly bothered as he left the cottage with the promise to return the next morning.

 

**9\. A Toad The Size Of A Gnome**

"You want to wear breeches," Charlie called from the loo. He splashed water on his face and pulled on a shirt.

Malfoy was bloody prompt. Charlie had been sitting at his table, half-dressed and finishing his tea when Malfoy rapped smartly on his door.

"Pardon?" Malfoy asked. 

He was dressed like a sodding dandy. Harry had told him the bloke had experience with animals in a rural area. Charlie laughed, trying to imagine him traipsing through a midden after seeing to a pig who'd taken a turn, and laughed.

"Trousers, Malfoy," Charlie said, stepping from the bathroom, now fully dressed. "Those lovely robes will be torn to bits if you try and wear them where we're going."

"I haven't any trousers."

"I'll lend you a pair," Charlie said.

Draco's eyes scanned over Charlie's body from his waist to his ankles and back. Charlie felt the gaze in the heat that rose to the back of his neck.

"Do you honestly think anything of yours will fit me?" Draco asked, placing his hands on his slim hips in demonstration.

"Malfoy, have you a wand? Shrink the sodding things to fit," Charlie laughed, tossing Draco a pair of work trousers.

Draco scowled and went into the loo. He emerged a few minutes later wearing the trousers, fitting him very nicely, and the thin vest he must have had on under his robes. 

"That's a good look on you." Charlie was joking, of course he was, but he couldn't help but let his eyes linger just a moment on the smooth shoulders and slim yet muscular arms. 

"Shut up and let's get a move on," Draco huffed.

The forest was cool and damp. The rains of spring had saturated the ground and new, pale green shoots of all sorts of plants were working their way through the detritus of an autumn and a winter's worth of fallen leaves and twigs.

"Have to tell Neville the growth has started," Charlie said, bending down to touch one tender stalk that was already fanning into a leaf. "He loves to walk around in here this time of year."

"I still can't believe that Longbottom's a professor," Draco said. He snapped his mouth shut with an audible smack and frowned.

"Yeah, well, I reckon we've all changed," Charlie said, staring pointedly at Draco. "Isn't that right, Malfoy?"

"I — I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offence," Draco said. He studied his hands where they were clasped in front of him. "Some things have changed so very much. It's difficult sometimes — being back here."

Charlie coughed. He felt a tiny wave of sympathy for the man, sympathy that was pretty well unwelcome at this point. 

"Just so we understand each other," Charlie said. The phrase had nothing of the gruff tone he'd originally intended. "Let's get to work."

They found two more dead animals. Charlie watched, surprised and impressed while Malfoy examined them and expertly extracted tissue samples that he slipped into tiny phials he'd had in the bag slung about his shoulder. 

The loss of the thestrals had been hard. Charlie knew Hagrid would lecture him that every creature had equal value. The fucking things had names and the mother thrown protectively over her foal brought a lump to his throat every time he thought of it. The other animals — well it was a big forest and things died all the time. It was part of the great circle and all that malarkey. But there were so many, and usually it made sense. They were sick. They were old. They were drinking at a pond, senses distracted, at the wrong time. 

"All right?" 

Charlie started. He'd almost forgotten he wasn't alone. Draco was standing, holding the phials, looking intently at Charlie with his lips pressed together. 

"Yeah," Charlie grunted. He cleared his throat. 

"You really care about these creatures," Draco said, and Charlie found again that he couldn't read what was behind the comment.

"You know, Malfoy," Charlie said. "I don't think it's a poison or something they've eaten that we're looking for. It strikes me as more of an attack. I found a thestral covering her newborn foal, as if she knew something was coming right then. Whatever it is, I think they have some warning."

"Hmm," Draco caught his bottom lip thoughtfully with his teeth. When he opened his mouth to speak, it looked plumper and red. "I can look for a variety of things in these samples."

They walked into the depths of the forest for hours. Just like yesterday, the time fairly flew by and the day had passed before Charlie knew it.

"We should be heading back," Charlie said, squinting up through the trees. "I think you've had a good look at the lay of the land and if we don't turn around, it’ll be getting on for dark before we're home."

"Right," Draco said. He opened his mouth and Charlie stopped, watching how the silver in his eyes lit when he was thinking. 

"Ahhh," Draco shouted and pitched forward almost knocking Charlie over. 

"Bugger — oof." 

Charlie had always had quick reflexes and he wasn't easily knocked down under any circumstances. His arms instinctively wrapped around Draco, holding him, and his soft hair brushed under Charlie's chin.

Draco coughed, flustered and flushed, and pushed himself away from Charlie. "Sorry," he said quickly. "I've no idea what I trod — "

A loud, indignant croak came from around their feet. Sitting six inches away, looking terribly put out, was a toad the size of a gnome. 

"What is that doing so deep into the forest?" Charlie mused.

"I don't know, but I've never seen a toad that large in England," Draco said. "Curious." The toad turned and hopped away into the underbrush. "Let's follow it."

Charlie smiled at Draco's thoughtful expression. "Malfoy, I think we just might make a good team."

Malfoy smiled back, a broad, pleased smile. Charlie would have to say he'd never expected a Malfoy to glow so from a Weasley’s compliment.

 

**10\. Red Flag**

"So, you ready to murder me yet?" Harry asked, taking the first cold, foamy drink from his pint.

Charlie laughed and said, "Nah, I wouldn't do that to my niece and nephews."

"Right. Ready to murder Malfoy then?"

"Nah, wouldn't do that to your wee lad."

Harry choked on his beer and looked at the table next to them. "Shut up."

"Och, give it rest Harry," Charlie said, shaking his head. "No one cares where your prick goes."

"Christ, _shut up_."

Charlie laughed again and picked up his whisky and Harry could feel his cheeks burning.

"I thought you asked me here to give me an update," Harry grumbled, checking his watch. He had three reports to get to Hermione by the end of the day and he had been hoping to ask Scorpius to come round to dinner. 

"Not keeping you from someone younger and sweeter, am I?" Charlie drawled. 

"Fuck, you are a pain in the arse," Harry said, but he couldn't help but laugh.

"So I've heard. Right, busy man and all that and I do have a lesson this afternoon. So, here's the thing — we don't know what it is."

" _What,_?" Harry yelped. "And you couldn't tell me this by owl?"

"Draco's taken some tissue samples and he thinks he'll have some idea by tomorrow," Charlie went on. "We were all over the forest. Saw a couple of peculiar things, like a huge toad that Draco says, and I agree, is likely an interloper."

Harry watched in quiet amazement as Charlie went on and on — perhaps the largest quantity of words that Harry had ever seen him say in one breath — about his and Malfoy's exploits over the past few days.

"Draco says?" Harry parroted. "Draco stayed past tea? Draco's coming tomorrow? Quite chummy, you are."

"Working with him was your idea," Charlie said. His tone was cool, as Charlie's always was, but Harry detected a slight bite to it.

"Oh no," Harry said, his mouth falling open, he raised a finger to point at Charlie. "Oh, no you don't. Don't you even think about it."

"What the devil are you on about?" Charlie asked, running his hands through his hair.

Harry leaned in and lowered his voice. "Leave him, Charlie. Malfoy's not one of us. Just, fuck, I don't think I could handle it, not now." 

Harry knew that Charlie loved a challenge. Straight men had a way of seeing the light, at least temporarily, with Charlie. Gay men did as well, come to mention it. But Charlie never stayed around for long and from what Scorpius had said, Draco had been pretty torn up about the very public divorce and had not had a relationship since. The last thing Harry needed was one of his best mates, and someone he had literally set Draco up with, throwing him into some sort of existential crisis. 

"Charlie, please, hands off," Harry said.

Charlie smiled and Harry was hit by a vivid image of a red flag waving in front of a bull. He decided to appeal to Charlie's ample decent side.

"Scorpius and I are just getting on," Harry said imploringly. "If you fuck with his dad, it'll muck us up. You know I've been lonely. Please. Promise me. Let me have this."

Charlie's face did soften. Slightly. "Potter you are a manipulative little shit. All right, because I am a magnanimous sort, I promise you I will not do anything that Malfoy doesn't _ask_ me to do."

Harry sighed into his beer. 

Red flag. Bull. 

 

**11\. Charlie Grinned**

Charlie pulled open his door and blinked. 

"Blimey," he said. The two men standing on his doorstep looked remarkably alike. Scorpius was a little taller, but that was about it. He looked over his shoulder at Harry, who squirmed. Harry had enumerated all the ways that Scorpius did not look exactly like his father — mother's lips, Black family eyes, and on and on. But seeing them next to each other, Charlie was fairly certain Harry had been trying to convince himself he _wasn't_ attracted to the nemesis of his youth. 

Draco stepped inside and said, "I think that "Hello" is the customary greeting."

"I was just taken aback by the good looks that seem to run in the family. Eh, Harry?" Charlie grinned and looked at Harry, who glared at him viciously. "Scorpius, I must have missed teaching you by, what, a year?" He extended his hand and the young man took it. 

"Pleased to meet you, Professor Weasley."

"Call me Charlie, and please, both of you, do come in and have a seat," he said, with put-on formality and a smarmy smile. "How's that, Malfoy? Am I fit for company now?"

"Barely," Draco said, rolling his eyes, but a small smile twitched at the corner of his lips. "Isn't this cozy?" He added, sitting down at Charlie's small table.

"Let's just get to work," Harry moaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. 

"I have some news," Draco said. He paused, looked around the room, and shook his hair off his shoulders. Charlie had to admire his style. "I was able to test the samples. I found only one common element in each. Fear."

"What does that mean?" Scorpius asked.

"It means they were frightened to death," Harry said. Charlie thought it had been years since he'd seen him look so grim. 

"I suppose it also means we're going into the forest after whatever it is," Draco drawled. 

"Of course it does." Charlie leapt to his feet. He grabbed his wand and a bag. 

He definitely heard one of the Malfoys mutter, "Bloody Gryffindors," as they headed out the door.

The forest looked much the same as it always did. Charlie had expected something different. Some feeling of being unwelcome like he'd had the other day, some evidence of disturbance. But today all was quiet and peaceful. On they walked, four pairs of eyes scouring the trees and the brush for anything unusual. 

"That's odd," Charlie said, stopping in front of a mound that rose up out of the fallen leaves and the growth of the forest floor. He knelt to examine it and Draco immediately knelt next to him.

"Why is a pile of dirt in the forest odd?" Scorpius asked. 

"Not dirt," Charlie said. To his great surprise, Draco pinched a quantity of the material in his long fingers and carefully felt it.

"It's manure," Draco said.

"What's it doing in a pile?" Harry asked. "Something Hagrid kept for fertiliser?" 

"I hardly think Hagrid would keep his fertiliser this far from his garden," Charlie said, slowly rising from his position next to Draco. 

"There's your pal," Harry said. 

Charlie followed Harry's pointing finger and saw the large toad staring at them. It really was the size of a small dog, with bulging eyes, a wide mouth set in a grim smirk, and an expression of supreme irritation. 

It took one very purposeful hop toward the dung heap.

"Er," Draco said, quietly, "It seems this belongs to him."

"Just back away," Charlie said. "Let's not disturb it." He heard Hagrid's voice echoing in his ears, instructing him again and again that he must let the forest make its own decisions and have the patience to wait and watch.

Scorpius looked at each of the older men in turn, his expression as perplexed as the toad's was irritated. "It's a _toad_." 

"It's a toad," Harry repeated. The colour had drained from his face and he was frowning, the grip on his wand tight as his eyes scanned the borders of the clearing in which stood. 

Charlie shook his head, immediately catching Harry's meaning. "No, Harry. It's never a basilisk," he said. 

"Because it is so impossible that there would be one on Hogwarts' grounds?"

"No," Draco said in a matter-of-fact tone, "because you destroyed the last known one."

Draco slipped the manure he had pinched in his fingers into one of the specimen phials he always kept with him.

Harry didn't look convinced, but he gave Draco a thoughtful look.

"We'd cover more distance if we split up," Harry said. "Why don't we pair off and meet back at Charlie's in two hours. Send up red sparks if you need help."

"Right, me and Malfoy the elder will take the west. Harry, you and Scorpius go east, back toward the school," Charlie said. Something about the look in Harry's eyes made him draw his wand as well.

Charlie couldn't tell if it was his imagination, or the weather, or something more sinister, but pressure pushed down on his head like a thick fog.

Malfoy walked two steps ahead of him, carefully placing his feet. He wore the trousers he had modified to fit him on that first day they worked together. At first, he'd looked like a kid wearing Muggle clothes to go to Platform 9¾. Now they seemed to fit him like a glove, clinging to the curves of his arse and his slim thighs. 

They walked for ages, until the light changed. Long shadows made the trees look like giants. Draco's hair rippled down his back, swaying with each step and catching the remaining light. Scorpius and Harry would be at the cottage soon and they were no nearer to putting together the slapdash collection of clues. 

Charlie ticked off what they knew in his head, certain that Harry's theory couldn't be true. He would _know_ if there was a basilisk in the forest. And hadn't Draco said the last one was gone?

A cock’s crow shattered the oppressive quiet of the afternoon and Charlie nearly jumped out of his skin. 

Draco started as well and Charlie found himself reaching to clasp Draco's shoulder. 

"Just a rooster," he said.

"I wasn't aware that there were any roosters living in the forest," Draco said.

"There aren't," Charlie agreed and his next thought disappeared when he heard something crashing through the underbrush and felt the rumble of it vibrate up through his feet.

"What the — " he choked out before he saw Draco start to run. Whatever it was ran straight for them. There was no cover. Charlie hesitated a moment and then followed Draco, his feet pounding on the forest floor. 

They ran until Charlie's lungs began to burn and the muscles in his thighs began to protest. He slowed just enough to listen for sounds of whatever it had been, and heard nothing.

Draco stopped and leaned back against the tree, panting and flushed.

"All right?"

"I'm fine, Weasley."

"Bloody hell, eh?"

"You might say."

"Any idea what that was?" Charlie asked, peering back through the trees.

"I never saw it." Draco said, scanning the woods. "But I'd guess that it's what we're looking for, and a basilisk never made a noise like that."

"In any event, feels good to run for your life, doesn't it?" Charlie asked, grinning.

"You are deranged," Draco said, shaking his head. But there was laughter in his eyes and he caught his lower lip in his teeth.

Charlie stepped close and, without thinking, raised his hand to trace Draco's jaw. He breathed in the cool forest air, easing the fire in his lungs. Draco's fine bones and soft skin made the pads of his fingers tingle. Draco sucked in his breath and pressed back against the tree, keeping his eyes on Charlie's, expression warm and soft. 

"I've been wondering about touching you," Charlie said, letting one finger move from Draco's jaw to trace the tendon that ran down his neck.

"I'd been thinking you had." Draco seemed to hold his breath.

"I had a thought to kiss you."

"I thought Gryffindors just did things without thinking. You disappoint me."

Charlie grinned. 

 

**12\. I Know All About His Type**

"Where are they?" Scorpius asked, looking out of the window for the tenth time. He was pacing in circles around the perimeter of Charlie's single room.

"Calm down," Harry said. He stepped in front of Scorpius, forcing him to stop the mad circling that was driving Harry spare. "Charlie knows the forest inside and out."

"That's not precisely helpful when the reason we are _here_ is that the forest is not as it should be at the moment," Scorpius snapped, his grey eyes flashing.

Harry circled Scorpius' waist with one arm. "Charlie is more than capable. He won't let anything happen to your father."

Scorpius stepped back, forcing Harry's hand to slip. "My dad's more than capable as well."

"Right, of course he is," Harry said. "I didn't mean anything like that. Don't let's argue. If they're not back in ten minutes, we'll go and look for them."

Apparently mollified, Scorpius sank into one of the kitchen chairs. 

"Weasley fancies him, doesn't he?" 

"Fancies who?" Harry asked, knowing full well who. 

"Don't be stupid, Harry," Scorpius said, rolling his eyes and fiddling absently with the salt shaker. "I saw the way Charlie looked at my dad. I _know_ that look."

"Charlie's harmless," Harry said, waving his hand dismissively.

Scorpius let out a bark-like laugh. "Harmless as a dragon, that one. I know all about him." Scorpius coughed and squirmed when Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "I know all about his type."

"Uh-uh," Harry said. "That's not what you meant. Out with it."

Scorpius sighed. "I was hoping this wouldn't come up, frankly. Not because I don't want you to know, but because it is less important than if it had never happened."

"Now you're making me nervous."

"No reason to be," Scorpius said, with a false casual air. "I just know his reputation — shag and go. I used to go to one of the same clubs as he does — did. It doesn't matter. It was forever ago."

"You're not old enough to have a forever ago," Harry said, his stomach twisting slightly.

"It was a lifetime ago," Scorpius said firmly. "I shagged him once, at the club, all right? We didn't even go in the alley. There is no way he knew who I was. I used to change my hair and use my school nickname. It was fine with me. That was what I was after at the time. But Dad? Dad's, I don't know, a bit fragile. I don't know if he likes men, although I suspected it a time or two. I have no idea if he's even been with anyone since my mum. So, if Charlie is planning to pull a shag and go, just tell him my dad's not the one, eh?" Scorpius put the salt shaker back in the middle of the table stared pointedly at Harry.

"But you are?" Harry asked, reeling from the rapid speech. 

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. I _told_ you. It was a lifetime ago."

Harry stood and walked to the window. "Where the fuck have they got to?" The words came out with a vehemence that had nothing to do with Charlie’s and Draco's whereabouts. They would talk about this later. Harry had learned over many painstaking years not to try and have conversations when his blood was boiling and his ears pounding like this. 

"You're not angry, are you?" Scorpius asked, and Harry felt a warm hand on his arm. He forced himself not to jerk away from the touch, knowing he was being ridiculous. Of course Scorpius had been with other men. So what if he'd had anonymous fucks in clubs? Harry was the last person who should be judging someone.

So what if one of those anonymous fucks was Charlie?

"No," Harry lied, knowing he'd be able to convince himself it was true soon enough. "No, just surprised. Give me a minute."

Scorpius gave him precisely a minute, or so it felt.

"Harry?" 

"What?"

"This may not be the best time to ask, but Dad's planning to invite you to dinner with the two of us, at his place," Scorpius said, his tone soft and cautious.

Harry whirled around, and he was so surprised he could hardly remember to be angry. "You're joking." 

"Well, I may have encouraged it. Come to dinner, Harry. We are working together, he is as well. It's time to put aside old hostilities," Scorpius said.

"We have," Harry said flatly. 

"Please," Scorpius said quietly. He wrapped his arms around Harry from behind and leant into his body. "It would mean so much to me."

Harry let himself relax into the embrace and said, "Okay, one dinner."

Scorpius squeezed Harry's middle and planted a kiss on his ear. "Good, because I already told him you would," he said brightly.

Harry chuckled. "Bloody Slytherin. I expect to be compensated."

"Oh, don't worry. I have plans for that," Scorpius said, the words rushing over Harry's skin and making him shiver. Harry arched back, pressing his arse into Scorpius' hips. He closed his eyes and was pleased to note that he seemed to have talked himself out of his resentment about Charlie in the club.

"Mm, Scorpius?" Harry said, watching the two approaching figures. "I think it might be too late for me to warn Charlie off."

Charlie and Draco were walking up the path to the cottage. Charlie's hand was on Draco's back. Draco's normally flawless hair was mussed and cheeks were as pink as his lips.

"Well, fuck," Scorpius said, peering out of the window over Harry's shoulder.

 

**13\. Do You Want To?**

It wasn't a basilisk. It wasn't humans. He'd checked with Hagrid again, and he was certain as well that it was something else that was new to the forest. There had to be something they were missing and he went in to the forest to search whenever he didn't have lessons.

And for some reason, Draco was willing to indulge him. So, while Harry and Scorpius had been kept busy at the Ministry all week, with occasional jaunts to Hogwarts, Draco had come every day to take more samples and begin working on a restorative draught for any not-quite dead creatures they found. 

They had discovered only smaller animals recently — birds, a few hares, and one young deer. Draco's potion had revived a spindly Bowtruckle that seemed to have been knocked out of its tree, unconscious. 

Once again, they found themselves deep in the forest, carefully trodding over ground they had covered before, looking for anything new. Charlie knew he'd have to place enchantments around the places where the forest met the school grounds soon enough. Yesterday he'd stopped two seventh years, holding hands and giggling, from sneaking into the forest. He felt both pleased and angry that they had never known the dangers of his generation growing up, that they could take the warnings of possible death so casually.

All week, he had enjoyed Draco's company. Not just looking at him, not just kissing him — and that had happened a few more times — but enjoying him like he enjoyed a pint with Harry, or tea with Neville, or the too infrequent visits from George. 

"Charlie," Draco hissed.

Charlie set his face into a grave expression just as Draco turned, realising he'd probably been wearing a daft grin.

"Look." Draco pointed to a cluster of trees. Strutting between them, Charlie saw a magnificent rooster, with iridescent black feathers and a striking bright red comb. It looked at them, cocked its head and made a small sound, and headed away back through the trees. "Have you seen that one before?"

"No," Charlie said. It didn't look like any of the chickens he kept and he wasn't missing any lately, in any event. 

"Follow it?" Draco asked.

"Well, if Harry's basilisk idea does turn out to be the one, we'd be safest right behind old red comb, there."

The rooster seemed unconcerned with the two humans suddenly darting through the trees and brush after him. 

"I feel like a bit of a prat," Charlie said, peering out from behind at tree to catch the direction it was taking next.

"You look like a bit of a prat," Draco said, smiling.

"This was your idea," Charlie reminded him. He stopped and raised one hand before Draco could spit out his retort.

The rooster stopped and let out an annoyed cluck. They had arrived back where they'd been with Harry and Scorpius the previous week. The bird scratched determinedly at the side of the dung heap until there was a shallow hole. It gave an indignant squawk and stepped away from the shallow it had created. Nestled in the depression was an egg that was nearly the size of a Hungarian Horntail's. 

"A bloody rooster ca — " Charlie began, but when the huge toad landed on top of the heap and croaked a greeting at the cock, Charlie and Draco froze.

"Keep your ears open and your eyes on the ground," Charlie said quietly as all of the information they'd gathered began to click into place. No, it wasn't a basilisk. A cock, not a hen. The bowtruckle near the water, knocked out, not petrified. And a metre from his feet, he just now noticed a long, satiny feather that was way too large for any bird.

"It's a cockatrice. It's a bloody cockatrice," Draco said, speaking the word just as Charlie thought it. "There must be one at least and — "

"There's another," Charlie said, and without thinking he lifted his wand and blasted the egg into smithereens. 

The rooster cried out and flapped away in a terrified flurry of feathers. The toad gave huge croak and glared. Between the trees to the left of the heap, Charlie saw the end of a huge lizard-like tail and heard the snapping of twigs.

"Fuck," he breathed.

"Run," hissed Draco.

With a horrible sound somewhere between a cock's crow and dragon's roar, the cockatrice crashed toward them. 

"Don't look at it!" Charlie yelled. He knew the paths almost without looking. He grabbed Draco's hand and they pelted away from the beast. 

Draco was clutching a stitch in his side and Charlie was gulping down huge breaths when finally the sounds from behind were growing quieter. They were almost at the edge of the forest, in sight of Charlie's house.

Draco's eyes were blazing and his cheeks were ruddy. Charlie could feel the adrenalin coursing through him. 

"Close shave, eh?" he said exuberantly.

Draco scowled at him. "And I know you _enjoy_ brushes with death."

"Never appreciate being alive so much as right after one," Charlie said. "Och, come on. I'll buy you a drink." And he strode down the path to his front door.

Inside the cottage, Charlie set two tumblers on the table and laughed lightly as he filled them with whisky.

"What's so funny, Weasley?"

"Our wee monster has two dads." Charlie turned, grinning broadly, and handed Draco his drink. "Here, settle your nerves."

"My nerves are fine," Draco said. "Safe with the rooster, says you. You know the other thing that kills them, don't you?"

Charlie crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, still smiling. "What's that, Malfoy?"

"Weasels," Draco said, smirking.

Charlie burst out laughing and took Draco's drink from his hand. Draco's smirk disappeared as Charlie stepped close to him.

"See if I can settle your nerves another way," he said against Draco's cheek, and he moved his jaw against Draco's until he could huff softly in his ear. Draco's breath hitched and his hand came around Charlie's waist and Charlie made a low sound in his throat when he felt Draco, already growing hard against his hip.

Charlie kissed the soft skin behind Draco's ear, and when Draco shuddered at a kiss, he lingered to nuzzle the spot. Draco tipped his head back and Charlie sucked along the tender skin of his neck. His hands moved over Draco's back and when Draco's hands dropped to curve around Charlie's arse, Charlie followed suit.

"Perhaps we shall see if you can appreciate being alive without courting death," Draco murmured.

Charlie laughed, delighted, and then moaned as his fingers explored the shape of Draco's arse. "Your arse feels as gorgeous as it looks." 

Draco flushed, and the pink cheeks looked so out of place on the usually cool face, that Charlie moaned again and pulled their hips tightly together. It had been ages since anyone had crawled under his skin this way, but he couldn't get close enough to Draco, rolling his hips until their hard cocks pressed together, a deliciously filthy dance across the room to the settee in front of the fire. 

Draco pulled away just enough to sit, eyes dark, tongue darting to wet his lips, hands never leaving Charlie's hips. 

"Lie down," Charlie said.

Draco immediately swung his legs up on the settee and Charlie lowered himself on top of him. Draco's chest was heaving and his hips wouldn't stop moving, pushing up against Charlie and driving him mad. 

"Fuck, I want you," Charlie moaned. "Do you know how much I've wanted you all week?"

"Yes," Draco breathed, and Charlie couldn't tell if it was an entreaty or his maddening arrogance, but he didn't much care.

"Good." Charlie reached between them and flipped open the button on Draco’s trousers. He could feel the tip of Draco's cock pushing against the waistband and he made a choking sound at the back of his throat.

"I — " Draco said. He stopped in a gasp and slipped his hands under Charlie's shirt, cool fingers on his hot skin, when Charlie started to tug on the zipper.

"You?" Charlie asked, slipping one finger inside Draco's trousers to trace his cock.

"I've never precisely done this."

Charlie stopped moving. "Done what?"

"Erm, fucked a man," Draco said, looking up at Charlie, all dishevelled blond hair and soft, open mouth.

"Do you want to?" Charlie asked, resuming his finger's gentle stroking. 

Draco thrust his hips into the touch and opened his mouth in a gasp. "Ah, I want to do _something_."

"Well, I'm happy to be a gentleman and go first," Charlie said, grinding his own throbbing cock down on Draco's thigh. "In any case, my best lessons always are the practical demonstrations."

"Professor Weasley," Draco breathed, and he craned his neck and pressed his lips to Charlie's. 

He may not know how to fuck, but he sure as shit knew how to kiss. He was fierce and tender, tongue exploring Charlie's mouth and quickening the pace while they rocked together until Charlie had to pull back and gasp, "Stop," or he would have come like a teenager, frotting on the couch.

Draco made a discontented sound and flashed Charlie an irritated glare. Charlie already knew that Malfoy didn't like to be interrupted.

"If you want to continue the lesson, we'll be needing to get on with it," Charlie said, pressing against his cock. "Come to the bed. We'll have more space."

"Oh," Draco said. He rose and cupped his cock as he walked awkwardly across the room. 

"That's a pretty sight," Charlie said, grinning. He followed and helped Draco pull off his shirt and dropped to his knees in front of him as he eased down Draco's trousers and pants. 

"Lovely," Charlie breathed over Draco's gorgeous cock. He gave the tip a lick and Draco's knees nearly buckled. "Perhaps you'd better sit."

Draco laughed, a low rumble, and sank onto the bed. The head of Draco's cock was smooth and hot in Charlie's mouth. He sucked lightly and curled his tongue around it.

"Oh, ah, Ch — " Draco gasped. "Oh my, oh fuck. I, I won't last — if you want — it's been so long and that feels so good."

"I do want," Charlie said, still kneeling in front of Draco.

He stood and shed his clothes, taking his time and relishing the hungry way that Draco watched him. He tossed his wand and a tube of lube onto the bed and lay down next to Draco.

"Come here." Charlie pulled Draco to him, chests pressed together and cocks brushing every time they moved. He kissed Draco's open mouth and then whispered against his lips. "First, I'll show you how to get me ready." He reached between them and wrapped his fingers around Draco's cock. "You're already ready."

"Yes," Draco agreed, breath warming Charlie's skin. 

Charlie turned onto his back and grabbed Draco's hand. "Touch me."

Draco lightly circled Charlie's cock, stroking the length of it and back down.

"Now my balls," Charlie said. Draco curled his fingers around his balls. "Squeeze gently. _Ah_ , fuck, just like that."

"I've done this much."

"You'll need the lube."

"I'm not an idiot, nor was I born yesterday," Draco said, more teasing than irritated. He reached for the lube and paused, hovering over Charlie and looking him in the eye. "But don't stop. Don't stop telling me."

"Like the talking?" Charlie asked, delighted. "All right, Malfoy. Cover you fingers, make it three or four with the lube, lots of it." Charlie pulled his knees toward his chest. "I don't _need_ all the fingers, but I like it. You're going to fuck me with your fingers first."

He tipped his head back and gasped as he felt a cool, wet finger circle his entrance. The finger went around and around until every nerve ending was humming and Charlie was desperate for him to push inside. 

"Draco," he groaned, low and gravely.

"Hmm?" 

Charlie lifted his head off the bed in time to see Draco's pink tongue dart out to flick his nipple and then trace the red and gold flames where they curled around his chest from the painted dragon's open mouth. 

" _Draco_." Charlie lifted his hips off the bed, trying to rock back onto Draco's finger. 

"I thought you were going to teach me," Draco whispered, his breath cooling the dampness on Charlie's chest and making him shiver.

"Ah, now you slide it in," Charlie said, each word a gasp. "Slide it in, Draco. Fuck me with your finger." 

"Like this?" Draco asked, all mock innocence as he slowly, excruciatingly slowing, pressed the tip of his finger inside.

"Like that. But more." And the finger finally slid in, giving Charlie something to move against, the slick, barely there friction on the sensitive skin was perfect and maddening. "Good."

He grasped the back of Draco's head and pulled him down, a firm press of lips, mouth opening to his tongue sliding in and back out in time with the movements of the finger. Draco's cock dragged along his thigh each time he rocked his hips and he could feel Draco's muscles begin to tremble.

"Oh, god, what next," Draco gasped, breaking the kiss to nip at Charlie's neck. 

"Another finger," Charlie said and he moaned as a second finger slid into him. "Yeah, a little harder."

He felt his body loosen and relax. "Can you feel that? Can you feel me opening for you? That's when you know, almost, almost." The demand for more, harder, faster, more, began to build with Draco's thrusts. 

"Cock," he commanded. "Slick your cock."

Draco pulled his fingers out a little to quickly. "Sorry," he spluttered when he saw Charlie wince. 

"Hush. S'okay," Charlie said, trying to slow his body down as he watched Draco stroke lubricant onto his cock. "Some men would need more than that, slower, more preparation. Some might want less. But I'm not honestly fussed at the moment about teaching you what other men want. What I want is your cock. Now." 

"I can't believe I've sunk to taking orders from a Weasley," Draco teased.

"And loving it." Charlie lifted his knees higher to his chest. "Kneel where you were before. And I'll bet you can guess what to do next."

"We'll see," Draco said. Charlie watched Draco's eyes drop to his arse and a look of intense concentration form on his face. He moved forward and Charlie forced his eyes to stay open as he felt the first press against him, not quite there. He rolled his hips, pressing against the tip of Draco's cock, teasing them both.

"Come on," he murmured. 

Draco pushed forward and he felt the head of his cock push past the muscles and that first delicious burn bloomed all through his body. Draco's eyes were half shut and the look of concentration had been replaced by one of bliss as instinct took over and he started to move.

Slowly at first, they moved together, closer and closer, then paused for a moment when Draco's body pressed flush against Charlie's. 

"How am I doing?" Draco asked, but his sweaty, flushed face and little moans utterly spoiled his attempt at sarcasm.

"Cheeky bugger," Charlie grumbled, moving his hips in a tight circle.

And finally he began to fuck Charlie, cock moving in and out in strong, even strokes.

"Harder. Do it harder," Charlie said, choking out each word between gasps for breath. He wrapped his legs around Draco's waist and pulled himself up against him, cock rubbing against Draco's stomach with each thrust. 

"I, _oh god_ , I'm," Draco babbled. His hips snapped harder and Charlie felt the tension in Draco's muscles building to breaking point.

He shoved his hand between them, fisting his cock hard and fast and Draco was still fucking him and looking desperate and lost in desire. Draco dipped his head and the tendrils of soft hair tickled over Charlie's chest. He squeezed his cock and he was coming, his arse clenching around Draco, whose eyes rolled back in his head and his movement stuttered and stilled and Charlie felt liquid warmth spread inside him.

Draco collapsed on top of him and, still panting, took Charlie's mouth in a searing kiss. 

"You're a quick study," Charlie said, when Draco flopped next to him on the bed. He flicked his wand over them and the sticky mess was replaced with a clean, tingly feeling.

"I usually am," Draco sighed. 

"You still have loads you could learn, if you were of a mind," Charlie said, finding Draco's hand and twining their fingers together.

"I daresay you're right about that," Draco said, and Charlie was glad that no one but the two of them would ever see the way they smiled at each other just then.

 

**14\. I Can See the Headlines**

Dinner was delicious, if excruciating. Draco's home was charming — simple and elegant — and infinitely more comfortable than Harry had expected. Well, that was to say, it _would_ have been comfortable if Harry hadn't felt as if he were crawling out of his skin. Every time he began to relax and think that this wasn't going so terribly poorly, he'd catch Draco eyeing him and desperately wish to sink through the floor.

Harry sat on the edge of the charcoal grey leather armchair nearest the fire. He wasn't entirely certain why he now found himself alone in the study with Draco. After dinner, Scorpius had disappeared with a careless, "Have some letters I have to get off before tomorrow, terribly sorry, join you in a tic," and a wicked gleam in his silver-grey eyes. 

Harry was certain that, if Scorpius' plan was to get the two of them talking like old pals by leaving them alone, he was going to be disappointed.

Draco poured brandy into snifters and Harry took the moment to study his profile. Scorpius, while not his twin by any means, certainly favoured his father. He had his pointed chin and white-blond hair. But Scorpius was taller and broader at the shoulder, like Lucius, and had a full sensuous mouth that Harry could only assume came from his mother. Scorpius' eyes were a different shape than Draco's. They were the shining silver grey that Harry had to admit came from the Blacks, but he could only associate with Sirius when he was laughing. Harry decided not to dwell on the fact that he found this combination of features so irresistible. 

Draco turned, two glasses in his hand, and it occurred to Harry that they hadn't said a word to each other since entering this room. Draco took a deep breath and Harry prepared himself for this to change.

"Well," he drawled in the cool tone that Harry remembered so well. "The Boy who Shagged My Son." 

Harry began to stand up. He hadn't any idea what he intended to do.

"Sit down, Potter," Draco said, waving his hand dismissively. "I find myself in rather a good mood and I have more regard for my son than to cause a scene with you, as much as it is a dreadful waste of an opportunity." 

"Malfoy, I never intended — "

"You never intended to what? Engage in dalliances with a boy less than half your age?"

"It's not a dalliance. I am not toying with him," Harry said firmly. "Don't insult him by suggesting it."

"Must you always be so earnest?" Draco asked, sneering. "I will say that I am glad to hear it. Because after all we've done to heal the wounds of the past, I would hate to have to kill you. Brandy?" 

Draco handed Harry a glass and Harry, for Scorpius’ sake, kept his mouth shut. He supposed, really, that Draco had every right to be a bit of a git about this. 

"Thank you," Harry said, training his voice to be steady.

"I will say that I am concerned about his career. The absolute last thing a Malfoy needs is any hint at nepotism. I can see the headlines: The scion of Death Eaters is a rising star at the Ministry, but wait, he is also the saviour's tart. Now there's a tasty bit of gossip."

"Scorpius is the most talented trainee we've taken in this year. They won't say that," Harry snapped.

"Because you are so good at keeping gossip about your many adventures out of the Prophet, Potter."

"Fair enough, Malfoy," Harry said, frowning. "All I'm saying is that anyone who questions Scorpius' work will get satisfying answers from others than me." 

Draco laughed — a sound that never failed to fill Harry with trepidation.

"It is deliciously ironic, you must admit, given that my son's last attempt at anything resembling an association with a Potter led him to come out to me," Draco said. He laughed again and looked at Harry expectantly. When Harry said nothing immediately, Draco continued. "I do hope that your eldest has grown out of his rather violent temper. Just in case _things_ , as they will do, go off between the two of you."

Harry blinked and tried not to look as perplexed as he felt. Scorpius and Albus had been friends until about fifth year. They seemed to be very close friends, actually. Then Harry and Ginny had received an owl from Neville that James had hexed Scorpius to the extent that the boy was in hospital and it had apparently been unprovoked. All he could get out of James at the time was that he had been taking up for Albus — who'd been furious at James and even more closed-lipped than James about the matter. Harry had always assumed that he was hacked off at James for behaving as if he couldn't fight his own battles. Perhaps he had been wrong.

"He never told you why they fought," Draco said, matter-of-factly. "You don't know. He never told you."

"You said that," Harry snapped. He felt his stomach sink down past his knees. He was frozen to the floor. He waited for Draco to gloat that Albus and James obviously trusted Harry less than Scorpius trusted Draco. He waited for Draco to make a crack about — what? Had they been together for long? Had Scorpius come on to Albus and James hexed him simply for wanting more than friendship with his brother? Had one cheated on the other? Harry didn't even know which awful possibility there was to make a crack about and, _fuck, fuck, fuck_ , his lover had been involved with his son. 

"I — thank you for dinner. I have to go. I'm sorry if this, er, situation has caused you any worry. Please give my apologies to Scorpius."

Harry stood and strode to the door. He hurried down the hallway to the front door and heard as he opened it, Scorpius shout, "Father, what did you say?"

*

Harry sank into his favourite chair, deep red brocade. He had placed it so that he could face either the fireplace or the back garden with the smallest shift in position. He stared at the wall between the two, trying to regain his breath and calm the pounding in his head. 

He leapt from the chair, focused his mind, and Apparated to Albus' front door.

He only knocked once and the door was pulled open. His son's happy expression changed to surprise and he exclaimed, "Dad!" as if Harry coming to visit was completely unexpected. 

Albus was dressed in Muggle clothes — pressed dark jeans and a green shirt, a few shades deeper than his eyes, with arrow-straight creases down the sleeves. He had his hair short so that the wild strands that stood up every which way looked artful and his skin glowed with the heat of a recent shower.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, at a loss for what he had come here to say. "You're going out."

Albus glanced at a silver watch on his wrist, a twenty-first birthday present from Charlie. Harry caught a glimpse of the watch face and realised he had never really looked at it closely. Each number was represented by a "."

Albus gave Harry a puzzled look and said, "Not for a bit. I just thought my friend was early. Come on in." 

"All right," Harry said. He wouldn't say anything. What on earth would he say anyway? 

"Drink?" Albus asked. 

Harry shook his head.

"Dad, not that I mind or anything, but why are you here?"

He wouldn't say anything about it. He didn't know why he was here himself — _Missed you, son. Thought I'd say hello, but since you're busy, another time._ Nothing, he'd say nothing.

"Are you gay?" Harry heard someone say in his voice.

Albus chortled. "Because I've pressed my shirt?"

"Shit," Harry said, dropping his face into his hand. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about this, it's none of my business. I just, well, I love you. You know that, right?"

"Right," Albus said, his hands on his hips and his eyes narrowed. "What's up? You haven't gone and left the Ministry or, I don't know, decided to be straight again or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Harry said, finally exhaling with a laugh. "Do I really only say that before I turn your life upside down? Sorry."

Albus lifted his wand and said, " _Accio_ , two beers. I think we both need a drink for this."

Harry took a deep breath. "I've just had a talk with Draco Malfoy. He told me something about Scorpius back in fourth year and it's made me rethink some things I may have missed on your account."

"Why on earth were you talking to Draco Malfoy?" Albus asked, taking a long drink of his beer.

Harry felt his face colour. "That doesn't matter now. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, of course, but — "

"Stop," Albus said. He smiled gently and Harry thought a little sadness crossed his face. "Scorpius and I were friends." Albus took a deep breath and shifted from one foot to the other nervously. "So, yeah, I wanted it to be something else. It became complicated. I suppose he didn't believe I meant it, or something."

"Are you saying that James hexed him because he split with you?" Harry asked. He focused on Albus' face, trying to convince himself that this was a conversation he needed to have with his son regardless of how it had come about. 

Albus shrugged. "I told you, it was complicated. I don't really blame him anymore. He thought I was trying to be you."

Harry's chest clenched with panic. "How — " He stopped himself. Of course that had to mean something else. That was, _oh_. That was just after Harry had given his Coming Out interview to Luna, to pre-empt the photo splash in the Prophet.

"Think about it," Albus said, sounding a little weary. "First you and Mum split and then you give that oh-so-subtle interview. Shut up," he said when Harry opened his mouth. "I understand _now_ why you did it. We're talking about when I was a kid. I already look exactly bloody like you. He thought I was trying on being gay to be like my famous parents."

"Sometimes infamous is more like it," Harry said. "I'm sorry. I know it's not always easy being my son."

Albus smiled at him and Harry reached over to touch his shoulder. 

"Can I say one more thing and then I'll shut up and let you get on with your evening?" Harry asked and Albus nodded. "I am so sorry that you didn't think you could tell me," Harry said. He blinked and forced himself to keep looking at his own eyes in the younger face.

"Dad, don't. It's not so much that I thought you'd react badly or anything. Obviously, would be a bit off if you did. Part of it was, I didn't know if Scorpius was right. I couldn't always tell what was me and what was Harry Potter's son. Took me a while to realise that those are the same thing. After a while, it just seemed easy to keep a low profile. I would have told the family eventually. Maybe when I had someone I wanted to introduce or maybe just because I wanted you to know."

"You told Charlie," Harry said, nodding at the watch. 

"Nah, I didn't," Albus said, laughing. "That summer I went to stay with him in Romania? He caught me snogging one of his apprentices. He didn't say much, just that I could come to him for anything. It's been good to have someone a bit out of things to talk to." 

"You should go and visit him up at Hogwarts sometime," Harry said.

"I should."

Harry stood to go and Albus walked him to the door. Harry turned and pulled his son into his arms.

*

Three owls came in the night, two from Scorpius and one from Ginny. Harry ignored the two from Scorpius. 

There was no way that Scorpius could know he had even received them. He wouldn't know that Harry wasn't sleeping either. Ginny, on the other hand, would somehow know.

A third owl came early in the morning. It said, _Please, answer me._

Harry picked up his quill and wrote, _I need some time._

He beckoned Ginny's owl and replied directly on her note that read, _I need to talk to you tomorrow._ He wasn't sure he felt like facing Ginny today, but he scribbled down that he would be there in the afternoon.

He had never undressed the night before, so he Apparated to Hogsmeade and before he knew what he was doing, he was pounding on the door he could never really think of as anything but Hagrid's. 

"What the fuck," a sleepy voice grumbled from inside. Harry heard heavy steps on the rough wood floor and the door opened. Charlie looked at him through one half-opened eye, boxers riding low on his hips, muscular chest and arms decorated with dragons and runes, red hair rumpled and soft and Harry thought again that, while it was probably good they'd never given it a go just for fun, he might always regret that just a bit.

"You look a fright, mate," Charlie said, stepping back to allow Harry inside. "Rough night?"

"You've no idea," Harry groaned.

"Hmm, looks as though you'd better sit down and tell me about it," Charlie said, reaching for the kettle.

"Well?" Charlie asked after Harry had finished his first cup of tea. "I know you have tea at home. You could've had that without waking me up at this sinister hour."

"I'm a shit dad," Harry grumbled, examining what seemed to be the form of the Grim in the bottom of his tea cup. It always seemed to be a Grim. He used bags at home.

"What are you on about? You are not," Charlie said, frowning at him.

Harry looked up miserably. "Consider the facts. I am bent. My son, apparently, is as well. And yet, I am clearly so unapproachable, not to mention thick, that I don't know until he's bloody twenty-three. He came to you instead."

"Harry," Charlie said in a tone that reminded Harry strongly of Molly Weasley. "He didn't come to me at first. I, erm, figured it out. He was relieved to have someone know. I trusted my mum and dad and I didn't tell them at that age. Sometimes it's good to have another adult to go to with this stuff. It doesn't mean you're a shit dad."

"You haven't heard the worst of it," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'll give you two guesses who's the first boy he mucked about with."

Charlie whistled long and low. " _That_ was Malfoy?"

"You knew about that, too?"

"One night, when he was in Romania, we were a bit pissed. He told me a story about, well, what he called his first love. Broke his heart, he did. Blimey, Harry. He never told me the boy's name."

Harry groaned. First love. Broke his heart. Harry was in hell. 

"Don't look so destroyed, man. He laughed about it then and that was what, three, four years ago?" Charlie said. He paused and looked at Harry appraisingly. A slow look of comprehension came over his face. "It's not just about Albus, is it? Fuck. This lad has you fully twisted about."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. Charlie was right. Even although everything in him told him to end it — tell Scorpius it had been a terrible mistake, apologise to Albus, forget it ever happened — half of his mind was constantly on Scorpius.

Charlie shook his head again. "He's a sensible bloke, your Albus. Talk to him. He'll be fine. But from the looks of you, you need to either go after Scorpius as hard as you can, or run like the devil."

Harry nodded. He knew which one he'd choose. He just had to hope that Albus could forgive him. 

"And Harry, mate, you know you're welcome here anytime. But you may want to make yourself scarce at the moment. Your lad's dad is due here any minute."

*

Harry sat in the living room that had been his for so long. He could hear the echoes of his children's laughter, see so many important moments — both wonderful and painful — that had happened in this room. He wouldn't go back, but he always had an achey feeling of nostalgia being in this house. 

He had insisted that Ginny keep the house, and that the children not have to move. But none of them lived here now and it suddenly seemed absurd that they held on to it.

"So," Ginny said softly, taking his hand. "What do you think?"

What did he think? 

Concentrating on what she was saying had been difficult enough, but formulating appropriate comments? That was asking a bit much. 

He looked at her lovely face, creased in a concerned frown. So _this_ was why Hermione was so concerned that he have someone to take to the ball. 

She knew. She knew that Ginny had asked Parvati to marry her and Parvati had said yes. She knew that, because the whole clan was together so rarely these days, the two were planning to announce it (with Hermione's permission, of course) at the family gathering before the ball. 

And Ginny wanted to sell the house so that she and Parvati could start fresh in their own home.

*

The days passed in a haze. Training continued. The four of them gathered at the forest several more times, but the only evidence they saw of the cockatrice was a few dead creatures. They found another thestral. This one's heart had still been beating, its head lolling in the pond. Charlie and Draco pulled it from the water and Draco was able to test his Restorative Elixir, the success of which sent them to the Three Broomsticks for a celebration.

They went up to the school after and addressed all of the teachers, warning them yet again to keep students away from the forest until it was caught. 

He was vaguely aware that Charlie and Draco gave each other the looks of lovers, touched whenever they passed, and both wore daft smiles whenever they thought no one was looking.

Scorpius tried to talk to him. He couldn't. He didn't know why. It wasn't Ginny. He was happy for her. He wouldn't have gone back to her if she'd wanted it. He was miserable and he wanted to reach out and pull Scorpius to him and make this feeling go away, but he couldn't and he didn't know why.

 

**15\. He Used To Work Himself Into A Funk All The Time**

"Well, what a night this is!" Molly exclaimed, beaming at her assembled family. The Burrow was fairly bursting with celebration.

"I'd say so," Arthur agreed, making the rounds of the room with the bottle of champagne that Ginny and Parvati had supplied. "Another toast to Ginny and Parvati, and to Hermione!"

The three women stood in the middle of the room, arm in arm, lifting their glasses to each other. With this third toast done, kids paired off to play and conversations between groups of two and three adults filled the room with the buzz of chatter. Everyone seemed incredibly happy, Charlie noted, except Harry. 

"I know the amount of good will in this room could make anyone ill, but you look like absolute shit, mate," Charlie said, plonking himself down next to Harry on the settee. Harry glared at him. "He's miserable as well, you know."

Harry took a drink of his beer and grunted in Charlie's direction.

"Why are you being such a daft pillock?"

"Leave it, Charlie. Not tonight, okay?" Harry muttered.

"Because you are having such a lovely time this evening?"

"Shut up."

"Harry," Charlie said in a low voice. "Albus told me you came to talk to him. Don't look like that, I didn't tell him why your sudden interest in his teenage affairs. You know, Draco is actually worried about Scorpius? I don't get you. You are going to have to see him tomorrow when we meet in the forest, you know."

"That's tomorrow," Harry grumbled. "And I can work with him just fine."

Harry had done this before. He used to work himself into a funk all the time. It was usually based on some imagined wrong or misunderstanding. He hadn't done it for ages. 

"Charlie," Angelina called. "Here, an owl for you."

She tossed him a roll of parchment and gave an owl that he recognised as Neville's a sip of her champagne. 

"Not tomorrow," Charlie said. His eyes scanned the note again. Neville's hand had obviously been shaking when he wrote. "Now."

Harry's head snapped up. "What is it? Is he okay?"

"Not him. A student is missing. A third year, and his friends last saw him going in to the forest." 

 

**16\. It Was A Bet**

"There's something here," Scorpius called, half a whisper and half a shout. 

Harry hurried to his side. On a thorn bush was a small scrap of black cloth, torn from a school robe. There was a gap in the brush, as if someone or something had gone through recently. 

"Be ready to conjure a mirror," Harry said, through gritted teeth.

"I'm not an idiot," Scorpius snapped. 

"You're still a trainee and you'll not question me," Harry growled. Harry hadn't wanted him to come at all. But Charlie had owled Draco and Scorpius before he'd had a chance to say a word, insisting that it was their case as well, and they had a right to finish it. 

Scorpius shot him a look of such anger and hurt that Harry felt as if he'd been slapped.

"Yes, sir," Scorpius said, his jaw tight. He raised his wand and stepped through the gap in the brush. 

"Scorpius."

"You won't have to tell me again, sir."

_Fuck._

A blast of wind hit Harry's face.

"What the hell," Scorpius exclaimed.

He heard a flapping of giant wings and a rain of leaves fell down upon them as the branches above bowed under the weight of something very large.

Harry and Scorpius raised their wands at the same moment and conjured mirrors the size of small boats above their heads. The thing gave a great squawk and, with a whip of its lizard tail sent twigs and branches down on their heads and then took off. Harry had to struggle to hold the mirror as its wings beat the air. 

"It's bloody enormous," Scorpius said in awe.

"Did it have something in its claws?" Harry said tensely. 

"I didn't see."

"It's getting dark," Harry said grimly. "We'd better find him soon."

Scorpius nodded, his expression as grave as Harry felt. "Farther west?"

"I think so."

They walked, in near silence, for the better part of an hour. Harry thought of Cho and Oliver sitting tensely in Neville's office. They'd had to threaten them with stunning spells to get them to stay out of the forest. The last thing they needed was panicked parents crashing through the trees and stumbling upon the cockatrice. 

It was a relief to have this concrete task, to have the focus of work. It probably made him a terrible person, but this he knew how to do. 

"Harry," Scorpius said, tugging on Harry's sleeve. "Look." He pointed into the darkened sky, to a shower of red sparks shooting in the air about fifty metres to the east. 

Harry took off running and heard Scorpius' footsteps pounding behind him. 

They arrived in the clearing where the sparks had come from. They were back where the thing had been hatched. 

"Fuck," Scorpius said, frozen with a look of terror in his face. 

"Don't panic," Harry whispered, stepping behind a tree. "Don't stop thinking." 

Charlie was lying about a metre from the dung heap. A shock of dark hair stuck out from under his arm and Harry realised he was lying over the boy. 

"Where's my dad?" Scorpius whispered, from behind another tree.

Harry felt a surge of fury. The fucker had turned tail and run, leaving Charlie unconscious — _unconscious, please, unconscious_ — and defenceless in the forest. 

"Not here," he grumbled. 

Another burst of red sparks lit the air, just outside the clearing and Scorpius shouted, "Dad," and tore in the direction from which they'd come.

Harry hesitated. He couldn't leave Charlie and the boy. But could he let Scorpius run into whatever it was by himself?

"You stay with them, I'll go," Harry commanded, but Scorpius kept running and disappeared into the trees. Harry cast a shield charm over Charlie and followed. 

Shouts rent the air. He arrived in time to see Scorpius conjure a huge mirror and move forward, holding it in front of him. Draco was sitting against a tree, his wand just beyond his reach. He had scratches on his face and his robe was torn, but he was awake and alive. 

The cockatrice was horrible in full view. Its fierce beady eyes darted around, everywhere but at the mirror, its scaly tail lashed at the bushes, and one sharp claw scratched at the ground in range of Draco's leg. 

"Over here," Scorpius screamed, trying to force it to the mirror and away from his father. 

Draco reached for his wand and the thing screeched and raised its claw menacingly.

"Don't move," Harry barked. "Either of you." If Scorpius would stay still and keep the beast's attention, Harry could sneak behind and send a mirror into its face, where it would have no choice but to look. But Scorpius wasn’t listening. He was panicking. Harry could see it in his face. All he was focusing on was the claw that was threatening Draco. A touch would mean death as surely as a look. 

Scorpius lurched forward and bellowed, "Look at me!"

The cockatrice moved more quickly than lightening, striking out with a terrifying scream. 

Harry shouted, _Protego_ , just as the mirror shattered under that sharp claw, bright shards of glass crashed down on Scorpius and then vanished as he dropped his wand and collapsed to the ground, Harry's Shield charm settling about him. 

Draco was on his feet, in front of his son.

"Look down," Harry shouted. 

"Tell me what to do," Draco said in a panic-stricken voice, his eyes darting between the cockatrice and his fallen son. 

"Mirrors, all around it," Harry said, raising his wand and sending one at its face. 

They ran around it and soon, it was surrounded by mirrors on all sides. It thrashed and screeched and swayed and, finally it crashed in a heap on the ground.

"Get away from it," Draco said, rushing to Scorpius. "Sometimes they're fatal even dead."

Harry dropped down next to him and suddenly found that he was cradling Scorpius' hand in his. Draco looked from Harry's hand to his eyes and Harry quickly felt for Scorpius' wrist.

"There's a pulse," he said. 

Draco touched his face, his head, felt his chest. "Of course there is," he said, fumbling in his pocket. He pulled out one of the bottles of potions he'd developed, a healing draught and tipped it into Scorpius' mouth. 

Harry felt his heart begin to beat again when Scorpius' eyelids fluttered and his breathing deepened.

"He's asleep now," Draco said. "We'll have to levitate him back. We have to see to Charlie."

Harry could tell from Draco's tense shoulders and focused eyes that Charlie's situation was a bit dodgier. Draco carefully rolled Charlie off the boy and Harry moved in to check the lad. 

"Hello," he said gently. The boy blinked and opened his mouth and Harry realised that he couldn't remember the boy's name. "I'm a friend of your parents'. My name's Harry. What's yours?"

"I — I know who you are," the boy stammered. "I'm Brevis. Is Professor Weasley all right?"

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, scanning the boy for injuries.

"I think so. He jumped on me and shouted not to move. I didn't even know why."

"What were you doing coming in to the forest?" Harry asked, glancing at Draco, hovered over Charlie muttering spells and measuring potions. He tried to be calm. He knew better than to try and get the truth by threatening a scared kid, but looking at Scorpius floating in the induced sleep and Charlie still unconscious, well, the brat better have a good story. 

"It was a bet," Brevis said, and the kid should be glad that he hung his head, abashed. "To get on the Quidditch Team."

"A _bet_?" Harry couldn't hear whatever Brevis had said next for the anger building in his head. He had to leave, take Scorpius up to hospital, send someone to help with Charlie. Then Charlie coughed. 

*

They deposited Brevis in Neville's office with Cho and Oliver, and given the looks on all on their faces, Harry was certain he didn't need to worry about the kid failing to learn from this experience. 

Harry always forgot that Madam Pomfrey had retired. Healer Goldstein was no doubt more than capable and his quiet, gentle manner was likely more comforting, but Harry felt slightly less confident without Madam Pomfrey's brusque manner and irritated competence.

"You sure you've never had formal Healer training?" he asked Draco as he finishing examining Charlie. 

Draco shook his head. He was standing exactly in the middle of the two beds where Charlie and Scorpius were both conscious but still sleeping, as if he couldn't choose to whom he needed to be nearest.

"Well, thanks to you," Anthony said, "they'll be fine. I may not even keep them overnight. Why don't you go and wait at Charlie's house and I'll send word."

Well, that was one similarity to Pomfrey — he knew how to get visitors out of his hair.

*

"I'm sorry you missed Granger's ball. You might still make it," Draco said. He was making tea. After they'd sat staring at the wall for quite some time, he'd walked right into Charlie's kitchen and pulled out the tea and the pot and a plate and some biscuits. "Tea?"

"The ball's over by now," Harry said numbly. 

"Probably, yeah," Draco said, sitting down at the table. He suddenly looked very weary. "I suppose the case is finished."

"Suppose. Thanks for your help," Harry said. He awkwardly clapped Draco on the shoulder. 

"It was a good opportunity, Potter," Draco said.

"I meant just now."

"I know."

"So, you and Charlie, eh?" Harry asked, fiddling with his glass.

"Seems so."

"He's a good man," Harry said, half a warning in his tone.

"So it seems," Draco said, reaching for a biscuit and then dropping it back down.

"Wonder how long they'll be," Harry said, shifting back and forth on his feet. He turned to peer out of the window.

"Madam Pomfrey was always pretty quick with healing, although she liked to keep one in hospital for ages," Draco said. 

Harry laughed. "That she did. Maybe Anthony's a little less rigid." He took a deep breath. "Draco, I want you to know that I never meant to hurt Scorpius. I did — fuck, _I do_ — care about him."

Draco looked Harry up and down, the grey eyes finally resting on his. "I think you're telling the wrong person." 

"I was just thinking the same thing," Harry said. "Maybe I needed to practice on you."

Draco smirked and then looked Harry over again. "May I ask you something?"

"I suppose," Harry said, chuckling nervously at the grave look on Draco's face. "I may not answer."

"Do you regret marrying Weasley? The divorce was so public and you obviously prefer men. Wouldn't your life have been simpler if you'd figured that out before you married?"

"How can I regret my marriage?" Harry answered. It occurred to him that Draco may have a new and particular need to ask these questions. "I wouldn't have my kids and I do love Ginny. We just didn't have the marriage everyone thought we had." Harry paused and asked kindly, "What about you, Malfoy?"

"If anything had happened differently, I wouldn't have Scorpius and that is unthinkable," Draco said. "The difference here perhaps is that _I_ thought we had the marriage everyone else thought we had. For a long time, I thought I would have given up the marriage to have spared myself the pain that came after. I don't think I feel that way anymore."

"Listen." Harry smiled at Draco as he heard Charlie's and Scorpius' voices ringing across the grounds as they made their way back to the cottage. "Goldstein is quick." 

"You should talk to Scorpius," Draco said. "He'll listen."

"Maybe," Harry answered, as Charlie pushed open the front door.

The way Charlie embraced Draco when he stepped inside told Harry that he and Scorpius ought to make themselves scarce.

"We should probably debrief," Harry said. "But, frankly, everyone seems to be in one piece and I am knackered and I think it can wait."

Scorpius' eyes darted to Harry. "I suppose we're finished, then. Thanks for everything you've taught me, Charlie. It was brilliant working with you." He paused and shot another look in Harry's direction. "See you on Monday. Come on, Dad. Why don't you kip at mine tonight?"

Charlie gave Harry a pointed look. He really was too tired for all of this non-verbal communication. 

"I was hoping to stay here," Draco said. "If Charlie will have me, that is?"

Charlie walked to the front door and picked up a small black leather case that Harry hadn't noticed before. He carried it over to the dresser by his bed. "I reckon I have a little room in my top drawer for your skivvies." 

 

**17\. He Grows On You**

"Good night, Harry. And thanks, mate," Charlie said. He grabbed Harry's arm and said in his ear, "Talk to him, you great prat."

Harry gave what Charlie thought was a nod and headed down the path to Hogsmeade, several steps behind Scorpius. 

Charlie shook his head at their retreating backs. "Idiots. I hope they have the sense to work things out."

"I don't know how you put up with him," Draco said.

"He grows on you," Charlie answered. He slid his hand around Draco's waist. "And so do you."

Draco smiled and leaned to press his cheek into Charlie's neck. It was such a simple gesture and Charlie couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him like that. 

"I am probably terrible at relationships," Draco said, the soft breath tickling Charlie's skin. 

"I know I am," Charlie said. "The work's finished. You want to walk away? If you do, no hard feelings." He heard Draco's breath still and the warm point of contact of his cheek against Charlie's neck retreated. He hastened to say, "That's not what I'm hoping for, mind you."

Draco's arm went around Charlie's waist. "Did I ever tell you the reason I went to France?"

"Good as anywhere."

"That's partially true," Draco said. "It was better than some. My father had a young cousin, Pascal, who lived in Paris. There were muttered rumours about him at every family event. He never showed up, and I certainly couldn't blame him from what people said about his 'lifestyle.' After my marriage ended, I wrote to him — a long letter with things I had never told anyone else. He wrote right back and said I should come and he'd show me Paris."

"You went to Paris to be gay," Charlie said. He placed his hands on Draco's upper arms, pushing him back just enough so that he could kiss him on the cheek. "I went to Romania." 

"Yes, well, I wasn't very good at it." 

"How can you not be good at being gay in Paris?" Charlie asked, frowning as he laughed. 

"Sounds like a contradiction in terms, I know," Draco said. "I'll spare you most of the pathetic details, but I wasn't ready. I had a few short associations and, as I've told you, I didn't even experiment very much sexually. I threw myself into my work and spent time with my cousin. Pascal had a lovely flat. He worked at the French Ministry, researching potions and he started a _Bibliothèque de Potions et de Médecines_. He went to work. He came home and had dinner with his partner of twelve years every evening and they invited me round on the weekends. Sometimes we went to literary discussions or cafés with mostly gay clientele. We went to the _Marché des Fiertés_. Do you know there is a group of witches and wizards that marches in the parade every year? The Muggles think they are street magicians. It's quite entertaining."

"Sounds as if you found a community, if not a lover," Charlie said. He felt heat rise to his cheeks. He didn't wish for Draco to have been lonely all those years, but couldn't say he minded not having to picture him with countless French lovers.

"That's just it," Draco said. "It was only me tagging along. It never became mine." He traced Charlie's jaw with his fingers and Charlie felt his skin tingle each place that Draco touched. "So, in answer to your earlier question — would I like to walk away? I'd like to show you Paris." 

"That'd be grand." Charlie said. "I'd like that, as well." He took Draco's hand and tugged. Draco smiled a coy smile that Charlie had come to recognise as anticipation. "We've another lesson, I believe." 

"Do we?" Draco asked. He let Charlie push him gently onto the bed. 

Charlie smoothed his hands over Draco's face, combed fingers through his hair, and tasted every inch of his throat. He pulled his clothes away, kissing as he went. He nipped at Draco's hipbones and swiped his tongue where his teeth had been. Draco shifted beneath him, reaching for Charlie and trying to pull him down to him. 

"Be still, won't you?" Charlie murmured. "This is a practical demonstration." 

He ran the tip of his tongue around the head of Draco's cock and delighted in the soft, " _Oh, oh_." Draco's hand came to rest on his head, stroking tenderly and then more firmly as Charlie slid his lips over Draco's cock and massaged along the underside with his tongue. 

Draco's fingers grasped Charlie's hair and he arched up into Charlie's mouth, his little gasps and moans of pleasure making Charlie's heart swell and cock ache. 

Draco said, voice breathless and low, "I think you've already taught me this bit."

"Nah," Charlie said, stroking Draco's slick cock with his fingers. "Nah, this is new. From here on, it's all new." 

 

**18\. Electric Heat And Filthy Sweetness**

"Shit," Harry exclaimed, knocking his head against the shower wall. Shampoo was dripping in his eyes and the water was too hot and he couldn't see without his bloody glasses and now he had a headache. Not to mention that when Scorpius had turned to glare at him before he Apparated away from Hogsmeade, Harry had temporarily lost his spine and just let him go. 

And now someone was pounding on his front door and Harry shouted, "Just a _minute_ ," nearly falling flat on his arse as he stumbled over the edge of the bath.

He pulled on a dressing gown and hurried to the door. He knew who it would be, or who he hoped it would be. He yanked open the door. He would tell Scorpius that he'd fucked up. He'd ask him for another chance. And Scorpius would probably tell him to fuck off. 

Except that it wasn't Scorpius. It was Albus.

"I've just had the most peculiar letter," Albus said by way of greeting. "An owl from Scorpius Malfoy apologising for ever thinking I might be like you." Albus raised an eyebrow at Harry and waited. Harry didn't know what to make of that, so he said nothing. "What have you done, Dad?"

"It's complicated," Harry said, realising immediately that it wasn't actually complicated at all. 

He heard footsteps and a muttered curse and Harry and Albus both leaned to peer out of the open front door. _There_ was Scorpius. 

Harry looked from Albus to Scorpius, and saw each of them do the same. For a silent moment, he thought no one would ever speak. Scorpius wore the irritated expression of someone who had just been interrupted. 

"Well, this is all far too _Witch Weekly_ for me," Albus said. "I'll leave you to it, shall I? That didn't sound right. Right. Leaving." And he dashed out of the front door, leaving Harry and Scorpius staring at each other. That became uncomfortable rather quickly, so Harry looked at his shoes, which wasn't much better.

"Should I ask for a transfer to another department?" Scorpius asked, his voice shaking, his fists clenched. 

"What?" Harry left off staring at his shoes and caught the swirl of emotions playing on Scorpius' face. "No, no. Of course not. You're doing brilliantly. I expect you'll be made Auror in no time now."

Scorpius squared his shoulders. "Thank you for that."

"Oh hell, Malfoy," Harry said, stepping back and beckoning Scorpius to step inside. "Don't thank me. It's your work has earned you that. Come inside."

Scorpius nodded curtly and Harry wondered if he would turn to go. He wondered what he would do if he did. But Scorpius looked at a point just past Harry's shoulder and said in a fractured voice, "It's just that I don't know what I did."

That was so far from anything Harry had expected, that he stepped back into the front room and sat heavily on the settee. Answers ran through his head. Questions he'd wanted to hurl at Scorpius hovered on his lips. Had he fucked anyone else in Harry's family? Was the timing of Draco's return to England and Scorpius' sudden interest in shagging the lead Auror honestly a coincidence? Was he never going to look at Harry without that scowl on his face?

"Were you ever going to tell me about Albus?" Harry asked. He swallowed against the anger rising in his throat.

"I don't know," Scorpius said. He looked sad and Harry clenched his fist to stop from reaching out. "I never had the chance, did I? You never asked me about it. You just walked away."

"I'm asking now," Harry said calmly. 

"I cannot honestly believe that this is about schoolboy dramatics," Scorpius said, shaking his head. 

"The schoolboy was my son and I had to hear about it from your father," Harry said, matching Scorpius' scowl. 

"I _am_ sorry about that," Scorpius said. He sat down next to Harry and his face softened. "Dad had no idea you didn't know. And Harry, that's not really my fault. Albus must have had his reasons for not telling you. I certainly understand what it is to want to distance yourself from your family's reputation."

"I guess you do," Harry said. "You know, I suppose that's something we have in common. Good, bad, or neutral, it is tiresome to always be seen as a continuation of your parents." 

Scorpius' hand had crept across the cushion toward Harry’s, the promise of a touch. 

"I nearly didn't mention my dad for this case," Scorpius said, his eyes darting to Harry's face. "I was afraid you would think I was using you — us. That you were willing to give him a chance, check out his work on its own merit, made me...well, thanks. It's been really good for him."

Harry groaned inwardly. What an idiot. All this time wasted, when, it seems, he might have just asked. 

Scorpius glanced at him again and Harry wasn't certain, but he thought that Scorpius shifted a little closer. 

"I hated that Albus and I weren't friends anymore," he said, his words spilling out in a hurried tumble. "Harry, I did. But it was a long time ago and I really didn't think it mattered. I wish I'd said something to you sooner, I can't tell you how much I do."

"It doesn't matter," Harry said. He moved his hand to cover Scorpius'. "I was being an idiot. If you'd be willing to give a bloke who evidently has some growing up to do another chance, I wouldn't say no to it."

"You'll probably continue to be an idiot," Scorpius said. A blush stained his cheeks and he lifted his hand onto Harry's knee.

"Seems likely." Harry moved his leg so their thighs pressed together. He let himself just sit, feeling how it was to caress the smooth skin of Scorpius’ hand, to let the warmth from their thighs tingle through his belly. "You'll have a lot to teach me."

"Once upon a time, you promised to teach me how to kiss you and lick you until you're begging," Scorpius said. The hand on Harry's knee moved to massage his thigh. "Do you remember?"

Harry's heart sped up and his cock stirred. "Yes," he croaked, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Because I remember," Scorpius said, turning so that he pressed his arm and shoulder against Harry's. "In fact I've gone over and over it in my mind. Again and again and _again_. Every detail."

"Sounds as if you've made thorough field notes." Harry tugged on Scorpius' shoulder, and Scorpius swung his leg over Harry's thighs. 

Scorpius moved forward in his lap and Harry let his forehead fall onto Scorpius' chest, his head moving with the rise and fall of rapid breaths.

"I have," he said. Harry let his eyes fall shut when he felt Scorpius' cheek rest on his hair. "I have and I think I am ready to attempt the tactic on my own, with your feedback, of course."

Harry laughed and tilted his head up, finding Scorpius’ throat soft and smooth under his lips. "You're on, Mr Malfoy."

The bedroom had never seemed so far away. They stopped to kiss in the archway between the front room and the hall. Scorpius ran his hand over Harry's arse as they passed the study, and Harry pressed back against him, grinding his arse against his hard cock. The bedroom door was particularly difficult to get through because Scorpius looked gorgeous with his wrists stretched over his head, held in Harry's hand against the doorframe, and his head tilting back, gasping as Harry licked and nibbled at his neck.

"Get. On. The. Bed," Scorpius said, freeing his wrists from Harry's grasp to wrap them around Harry. 

"You'll have to let go of me if you want me to move," Harry said, rolling his hips so their cocks pressed together. 

"Yeah, go." Scorpius covered Harry's mouth with his and parted Harry's lips with his tongue. "Fuck, go," he said, an edge of desperation in his voice and he shoved Harry in the direction of the bed. They bumped against each other, tripped over robes and pants, and Scorpius' shoe hit Harry in the middle of the back when he kicked it off. 

"Oh, come here," Harry said, more puffs of breath than words. He lay on the bed and Scorpius slid alongside him, throwing his thigh over Harry's, the silky, intimate slide of their skin humming through Harry. 

Scorpius gripped Harry's shoulder and turned him onto his stomach. Harry sighed and pillowed his head on his arms. He felt the heat of Scorpius' skin close to him, his chest against Harry's back, and silky hair tickling his neck as Scorpius dipped his head to kiss Harry's shoulders and back.

"So hot," Scorpius whispered onto Harry's skin. 

"Mm," Harry sighed again. He stretched and arched into the bed. The warm, wet mouth was licking along the small of his back, making him shiver.

"How am I doing?" Scorpius asked.

"Mm, lovely. _Ah_ ," Harry gasped as he felt teeth nip at the top of his arse. Firm fingers curved around his arse, and Harry felt the traces of the touch linger after the fingers had moved on.

"Delicious." A tongue followed the fingers and Harry rolled his hips into the bed again. "Now if I remember correctly," Scorpius said, in a slow, sexy drawl. He kissed in the dip at the base of Harry's spine and Harry trembled with anticipation. 

" _Yeah_ ," Harry moaned, as Scorpius' tongue, soft and sweet, slid into Harry's cleft. 

"Now, I remember that you did this," Scorpius said, licking from the just over Harry's balls to the bottom of his spine. "And then this." A shorter swipe of tongue and a hint of pressure over his entrance. "Am I doing well?"

"Oh, god, head of the class," Harry panted. "Do that again and you'll make Auror tomorrow." Harry froze. He felt Scorpius pull back. "Shit, not...I didn't mean," he stammered looking over his shoulder. 

"Shut up," Scorpius said. He shook his head at Harry. "This is you being an idiot again. We don't need to pretend we aren't who we are. I know the difference between this," Scorpius said, moving his hands over Harry's arse, "and work. We can muck about, we can laugh, Merlin knows everyone else will. Maybe you'll even let me call you ‘Sir.’"

Harry laughed and dropped his head onto his arms. "Okay."

"Now then, if you're finished, isn't there something other than talking you'd like me to be doing with my tongue?"

"Yes, crikey, yes," Harry said, but he had to, for his own sake, say it once. He twisted so he could see Scorpius' face. "I promise. I will not do anything to interfere with your career. Nothing, no matter what's going on with us. No matter what happens."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Yes, we're all very noble and no one's getting anything other than off due to any shagging going on in Auror Potter's bed. Now, _shut up_."

Harry grinned. "Are you going to shag me?"

"It wasn't in the lesson," Scorpius said, with the crooked smile.

"You can call me ‘ _Sir_ ,’ if you do."

Scorpius pushed Harry's shoulders back down and Harry felt him move quickly, settling between his legs. He closed his eyes and the hands were back, tracing and teasing and tugging. There was a puff of breath right on his centre and then a kiss. And for a moment all that existed was the electric heat and filthy sweetness of that kiss. 

He curved his back, arching to Scorpius, opening to him. Scorpius circled his tongue around and around Harry's entrance, just has Harry had done to him. He flattened his tongue and laved over the sensitive skin, and Harry felt it in every nerve, every muscle. 

"Mm," Scorpius hummed. Harry could feel him rocking his hips against the mattress and it made Harry's cock throb to know that doing this to him was driving Scorpius mad. 

Scorpius' tongue drew to a point and he fluttered it over Harry's hole. 

"Oh, _please_ ," Harry gasped and Scorpius chuckled, the vibrations shooting straight up Harry's spine. 

"This?" Scorpius asked and he pressed his tongue just inside. And then pulled out, and pushed back in again, slowly working his way inside, slowly opening Harry. 

He pushed his arse back onto Scorpius' tongue and ground back down in to the mattress. He couldn't stop moaning, deep sounds that came from his chest. He babbled, nonsense and endearments, and, finally, "Fuck me, _please_ , fuck me." 

"Yes," Scorpius said, and he reached for the lube. "Sir." 

"Prat," Harry gasped. He turned to watch Scorpius slick his cock. He was flushed from his chest to his face, eyes dark with desire, and his pale blond hair was messy and dishevelled. He ran his long fingers slowly along his cock, touch careful and light. 

Scorpius crawled between Harry's knees and smoothed his hands down his back. "Ready?" he asked.

Harry settled himself on his hands and knees and nodded, dropping his head between his shoulders. 

He breathed out as the head of Scorpius' cock pressed against him. He could feel Scorpius giving tiny thrusts, each one opening Harry by barely more than a millimetre. Harry circled his hips and Scorpius moaned and finally, _finally_ , pushed inside. 

Harry rocked back, and concentrated on Scorpius' cock sliding in and in and grazing over his prostate. He felt his mouth open, but no sound, not the _harder_ or the _more_ or _fuck me_ , that he thought — nothing but a murmur of breath came out. But Scorpius could feel him, because he slipped out slowly and thrust back in, _harder, more_. Fuck. He grasped Harry's hips and pulled him against him, going deeper and groaning with each thrust. 

Harry felt his skin become slippery with sweat, he was panting, and nearly out of his mind with the need to come. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had fucked him like this, so deep and so thorough. 

Scorpius' hand snaked around his body and he nearly sobbed with relief. He held his breath, waiting for the hand to grasp his cock and pull him to ecstasy. But Scorpius slid his hand along Harry's stomach, to his chest, and splayed his fingers in the centre of Harry chest. He tightened his arms, pressing his chest and stomach along Harry's back and then pulled up, kneeling and pulling Harry with him. He found his rhythm again and fucked Harry in even, hard strokes, arms still wrapped around him as Harry pressed back into his embrace.

Harry twisted his head around and found Scorpius' mouth, open and hungry, and their tongues curled together as their bodies moved. Harry grabbed Scorpius' hand and dragged it down his chest to his belly. He held it to him, just grazing the first tendrils of black curls there.

"Please touch me," he groaned, rough voice and pleading tone. " _Please_ , make me come."

Scorpius moaned long and low. Harry felt lips and teeth and tongue on his neck, and strong fingers around his cock, pulling and stroking. Scorpius leaned back, so Harry was nearly sitting in his lap. His thrusts became short and sharp, and the change of angle made Harry see stars. 

" _Harry_ ," Scorpius breathed against the back of his neck. "Oh, fuck, Harry. Coming, coming _so hard_." 

He pushed in and stilled for a second, his hand squeezing around Harry's cock, and Harry came, slamming his hips back against Scorpius, trying to get just a little more of his cock, deeper, before it was over. 

"Oh, fuck," Harry said, collapsing on to the bed. Scorpius followed him down. They lay together, Harry half under Scorpius, breathless and messy and perfect. 

"Well?" Scorpius asked, turning on his side and running his hand along Harry's side.

The light touch made Harry smile. "The teacher becomes the student," he said. 

Scorpius laughed, bright and young, and Harry felt the sound in his chest. He shifted and nudged until Scorpius was resting on his chest. He wanted nothing more than to sleep wrapped up in him all night. He wanted to let himself have this. 

 

**19\. Getting There**

Lily flopped into the chair across from Harry. He could hardly believe this stunning young woman was his daughter. Her long red hair was pulled into a bunch at the back of her neck and she glowed with health. She had all of his and all of her mother's Quidditch ability in one body and it was all they had been able to do to keep her at school for seventh year when she'd been offered a spot on England's team. 

"What's all this, then?" she asked, reaching across the table to pour some tea.

"Now that you're here maybe he'll tell us," James said. 

"Oy, hold on just a moment," Harry protested. "Do I need some special reason to have dinner with my kids?"

"No, Dad. Of course not," Albus said kindly. "It's just that we usually have whatever you've cooked or fish and chips at your house. The swank restaurant tips us off a bit. Give him a break, you two."

Harry fiddled with his napkin and looked gratefully at Albus. He was the only one who knew what Harry wanted to talk about tonight. He was still bowled over that Albus had been so accepting. 

"You're half right," Harry said, looking at Lily and then James. "I do have something I want to talk with you about. I also thought it would be pleasant for us to have a nice meal together. We're all four of us hardly ever together, just us, anymore."

"So, are we to guess?" Lily asked. 

"No, no," Harry said, and his thumb went right through the cloth napkin. "I want you to know that I've been seeing someone, someone I hope will be around for a while."

"About time," James said, looking immensely relieved. 

Harry considered stopping here and he refilled each of his children's tea cups. James muttered that he'd like something stronger than tea and tried to catch the waitress' eye. 

"Hang on," Lily said, shaking her head at James. "What else, Dad? There's something you're not telling us."

Harry hesitated and Lily looked intently at him. He resisted the urge to look away — there was no way his daughter knew enough Legilimency to get into his mind. 

"How old is he?"

Shit. Maybe she did know enough. 

Harry coughed and Albus became very interested in his silverware. 

"Young," Harry said.

"How young?" she asked. 

James had stopped trying to flag the waitress and was staring at his father.

Harry coughed again. "I'm not telling you," he said, impulsively and immediately regretted how stupid it sounded. 

James laughed roughly and said, "Oh come on, Dad. How bad can it be? He's not younger than me, is he?" 

Albus spluttered and spit his tea across the table and Harry felt his face burn. 

"Oh, bloody hell, Dad," James said, slumping back in his chair and looking at the ceiling. "How young?"

"My age," said Albus, as if it were a challenge to his siblings. "And shut up about it."

James and Lily stared at Harry. Lily looked shocked. James looked embarrassed and that twisted Harry's stomach. Harry scrubbed his hand over his face. It was not over yet. 

" _And_ you know him," Harry said. He'd dragged this out long enough and Albus looked as if he was about to say it if Harry didn't. "Scorpius Malfoy."

It was James' turn to cough and splutter. He looked wildly back and forth between Harry and Albus.

"James, don't," Albus said.

"You knew? You knew and you didn't tell me?" James snapped at Albus. He turned to glare at Harry. "I have no clue what to say to you."

"I'm not actually asking you to say anything," Harry said firmly. "I would love it if you could accept this, but I can't force you. Neither am I seeking your permission."

"And you're all right with this?" James asked Albus, as if Harry had not spoken. 

"Getting there," Albus said, shrugging. "It was a long time ago, Jamie."

"As long as I don't have to call him Dad," Lily said. She reached for the menu. "I'm famished."

*

Harry chose a table at the very back of the Three Broomsticks. 

"To what do I owe the honour?" Rosmerta asked, flashing him a cheerful smile.

"Any excuse to see you," Harry said, touching his forehead as if he had a hat. "Wrapping up the recent case at Hogwarts. Charlie Weasley’ll be here in a moment."

"Will he, now?" Rosmerta said. "I'll away and fetch out the whisky."

Harry laughed and leaned back in his seat to wait in comfortable contentment. 

“What's the grin for, then?" Charlie asked, sitting down at the table. Harry started out of his reverie. Charlie did have a way of sneaking up on a person. "As if I couldn't guess." 

"Here you are," Rosmerta said, appearing at the table with two tumblers and a decanter of whisky floating ahead of her. "On the house. Wee bit of a celebration, I reckon. Nasty piece, that business and no one badly hurt. Good for you, and thanks to you." She waved off their thanks and made the rounds of her pub.

"So, Malfoy put that smile on your face?" Charlie asked.

"Put that one on yours?" Harry retorted. 

"Right, well, who would have thought it?" Charlie smiled into his drink. 

"Does seem a little unlikely," Harry said, laughing at Charlie's twinkling eyes. "Something about them, isn't there?"

"It's the hair."

"I rather thought it was the arse."

"Aren't you something now? Is this what younger men do to your stodgy old self?" Charlie chuckled. "I hear you talked to the kids."

"I did," Harry said shrugging. Albus, the most unlikely source of support on this, had promised to work on James. Harry told him to leave it. Time would tell and Harry was sure that James and Lily both would be able to be happy for him if things went as he hoped. 

"They'll come through," Charlie said, fondly. "Don't know about Ron, though."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "I think he's just in shock, and you've as much to do with that as I." Charlie looked happy, relaxed. "You really going to make this stick? Give up your old ways?" 

"I'm going to give it a go," Charlie said. "If he'll let me."

"I think he will."

Charlie pulled the stopper from the decanter and poured the amber drink into two glasses. "Wee bit of a celebration, eh?"

"I reckon," said Harry.

 

~the end~

**Author's Note:**

> And now with a Part 2, [Something in the Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641472)


End file.
